


One Night

by Sugarmouse



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Angst, Complete, Escort Service, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Prostitution, Rare Pairings, Romance, escort!Will, post Gideon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-10 00:19:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4369925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugarmouse/pseuds/Sugarmouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Frederick Chilton is not happy. Not only does he have to go to this stupid awards dinner to watch <i>Doctor Lecter</i> accept what should rightfully be <i>his</i> award, but he's supposed to go without a date on his arm? Oh no, this just will not do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to give a huge thank you to [catsandwinchesters](http://catsandwinchesters.tumblr.com/)/[@sarahfrankie_](https://twitter.com/sarahfrankie_) for doing an amazing job beta-ing this fic.
> 
> I know I spent long enough writing this, I'm sure I sent a lot of you mad talking about it for so long. It's finally here! Please note that Frederick Chilton is very much the main character in this fic. If you don't like the pretentious asshole then you probably won't like this fic.
> 
> You can contact me on tumblr at [sugarmaus](http://sugarmaus.tumblr.com) and on twitter [@ThisMouse](https://twitter.com/ThisMouse).

“They mention _Alana Bloom_ in here,” snarls Frederick Chilton as he crumples the edges of the newspaper. He looks over the top of the page at Barney. Barney silently stands by the door of Frederick’s office and shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

Frederick throws the paper down onto his desk and stands, leaning heavily forward on the polished surface. He frowns at the black and white photo in the newspaper. “Doctor Bloom wasn’t even on the shortlist, she didn’t even publish any qualifying material.” Frederick sighs. The fight leaving his body, he slumps back down into his chair. From recent experience, he knows that getting worked up isn’t going to help.

He waves his hand at Barney absently. “Yes, what is it?” Barney steps closer and gently puts down a stack of completed checklist forms.

”All in order then,” says Frederick absently as he quickly signs them without going through them. He doesn’t need to double check them, doesn’t _care_ enough to double check them. In either case, Barney is reliable and Frederick is too busy with important things right now. He clenches his jaw when he catches another glimpse of Hannibal Lecter’s smug face in that damn photo. The article was bad enough but a _photo_. It’s longer than he’d expected. It’s not as though many outside of the mental health field would care about who the Baltimore Psychiatric Society gives out awards to.

Barney pauses at the doorway and looks over his shoulder. “Everything okay boss?” he asks.

”Yes, yes...” Frederick sighs again. Everything is not okay though. He’s just watching _his_ award get handed to someone undeserving and his own contributions to medical science being brushed under the rug.

”Um, okay boss,” says Barney and he leaves the room. Frederick is slightly thankful to be alone again, before he can say too much of what he’s thinking out loud. Frederick props his chin on one hand and looks at the article again. The eleventh page. It’s not exactly front page but it’s not buried in the back either. He frowns. How can someone submit an article about _Frederick’s own patient_ and gain more respect than Frederick himself? Not just his own patient but one whose case, whose _treatment_ , he had been so involved with. A case that high profile and this is what happens. He feels a heavy weight sitting in his stomach. Maybe it’s the embarrassment of the whole situation. It’s not fair and Frederick can barely catch himself to stop his eyes from skimming over the words another time. _Doctor Lecter’s breakthrough study_ and _Doctor Lecter will be honoured for his groundbreaking work_ and _Doctor Lecter’s unique insights_ and annoyingly fawning quotes from Doctor Lecter’s contemporaries...like Alana Bloom. As though the links he keeps getting emailed to the numerous articles on that damn crime website weren’t bad enough.

”Fuck,” he says softly and he folds the paper over and picks it up from the desk. He pauses his hand over the trashcan for a moment before sliding the paper into the bottom drawer of his desk instead. He lays his palms flat on the desk and takes a deep breath. “I am strong and confident and my work is top notch,” he says to the empty room. “I can deal with all of this, I’m going to go to this stupid dinner and I’m going to hold my head high and applaud politely when Hannibal goes up to accept that award and I’m going to smile and be the bigger man.” It doesn’t make him feel any better.

Frederick sighs again and slumps back further into his seat. All of the shit he had to deal with last year and of course it’s still happening. How could his own paper, reflecting on his own _personal_ experiences be less deserving than the drivel Hannibal had published. He had truly first hand experience to draw on. Hannibal’s paper had been completely off base, insulting Frederick’s methods and blaming the poor outcome on questionable methodology. It makes Frederick angry, it makes him rage at everyone who took Hannibal’s words at face value and assumed that Frederick was responsible for his own attack. Deep down it makes him worry that maybe Hannibal is right and he brought it on himself. It’s simply not fair and despite the lack of evidence, clearly the medical community of Baltimore likes Hannibal Lecter’s theories a hell of a lot more than Frederick’s own. He stands, grabs his cane, coat, and briefcase and leaves work early.

No one questions him about leaving early, they wouldn’t dare. He _is_ the boss after all. Frederick holds his head high as he strides out of the darkened hospital to the bright outdoors. He goes to his car and sits in the driver’s seat and for a moment he considers going out somewhere, a bar maybe. It would be nice to go somewhere he wouldn’t be alone. But just like every other time those thoughts have come up, he starts the car and heads home instead.

Frederick’s house is beautiful. It’s well appointed, _proper_ , for a man in his position to have fine things. It’s quiet and empty and Frederick sighs as he sits down on one of the leather couches that were artfully arranged by his interior designer to facilitate conversations at social gatherings. Frederick hasn’t had anyone over to visit in _months_.

The cat jumps up on the sofa and Frederick eyes it. The cat cocks her head and mews. Frederick huffs out a breath and pets her head and she purrs. He’s never liked cats, never wanted one. His mother had shown up with the creature not long after Frederick had finally been released from the hospital.

”You need some company,” she’d said. Of course the implication was that only a nonverbal animal could put up with him. The old bat wouldn’t visit him in the hospital but of _course_ she’d show up afterwards to stick her nose into his life. The cat moves closer and rubs her head against his hand before stepping onto his legs and curling up on his thigh. Frederick strokes her back and listens to her purr.

”I suppose you’re having a better day than I am,” says Frederick to the cat. He shakes his head. He might have once used this opportunity to invite as many influential people over as he could and impress them. He could bring them around, or at least only invite the ones that he knows would say things he’d want to hear. Things like that used to make him feel better. Since his physical recovery he just can’t bear it, the looks and unasked questions about what exactly he did _wrong_ with Abel Gideon. Frederick thinks perhaps he should blame Hannibal’s paper exclusively but perhaps even without it, the suspicions would still be there in everyone’s minds.

”I need a drink,” Frederick tells the cat and he lifts her and puts her down onto the sofa. He ignores her disgruntled meows and makes his way to the kitchen.

*********

Frederick isn’t sure if he was saving the bottle of Champagne for a special occasion but it’s too late now. Champagne that he wasn’t even supposed to drink now, it was all for show and sharing with some admiring colleagues. After the Champagne is gone, he starts into the last of the whiskey he most definitely _was_ saving for a moment of victory. He doesn’t care, it feels too good to drink his troubles away for a bit. He shouldn’t be drinking at all, he’s been warned, he knows the dangers considering his medical history but after the first few drinks, he doesn’t care and part of him almost enjoys the idea of what could happen.

He can’t handle as much as he used to and it’s not long until he feels off balance and a little wild. The cat has long ago lost interest in physical contact and she sits on one of the armchairs, feet tucked under her body and watching him through narrowed eyes. Frederick holds his glass up to her and then downs the rest. He sits back on the sofa and looks up at the ceiling.

”Fuck I can’t even get this drunk at the dinner, to get through it,” says Frederick. The cat doesn’t make any sound of response and Frederick smiles at the thought. “You’re a good listener,” he tells her and he might just truly mean it.

The television is still on, muted now. Frederick hasn’t been watching it for hours now but the people on the screen catch his eye occasionally. He leans back into his seat and looks at the cat instead. “I heard that Alana Bloom is seeing Lecter,” he tells her. The cat blinks at him slowly. “Yeah _seeing_ , I bet that’s why she said that stuff about his dumb paper.” He takes another swallow of his drink and grimaces. “Ugh, she’s going to be his date for the dinner isn’t she?”

Frederick looks up at the ceiling. Of course Alana will be on Hannibal’s arm at the dinner, and of course Frederick will be forced to see them both. If Frederick had won like he was supposed to, he likes to imagine that Alana would be breaking down his door to attend the dinner with _him_. He sighs and shakes his head.

”Oh fuck I need a date,” he says and he widens his eyes at the thought. Of course he needs a date. He sits up and stares at the cat. “Fuck I can’t show up by myself, I have to keep my head held high, I have my dignity after all!” The cat stands and moves across the seat to the other side and finds a new position to curl up into.

Frederick looks at the laptop, closed on the coffee table. He’d slammed it shut after he’d caught himself reading the small number of local news articles mentioning the upcoming annual dinner and the honours being bestowed. The whole thing made Frederick feel so _angry_ and the alcohol in his system hasn’t been helping all that much.

Frederick opens the browser and drains his glass before setting it down. He looks at the cat over the top of the screen. “I’m sure I can find some gorgeous thing to hang on my arm and make me look good,” he smiles at the cat. “Who wouldn’t want to attend a formal event with _me_.”

After searching through Facebook, Frederick isn’t so sure of his prospects any more. “Fuck,” he says, quite a bit louder than he intended. The cat stares at him and he swears she looks more irritated than usual. “Why does everyone in this fucking city know each other,” he asks. He pauses as he looks at the cat’s expressionless face. “Okay not _everybody_ ,” he admits with a sigh. He taps the edge of the laptop on his knees. “Just everyone who’s anyone...and intelligent _and_ attractive.” He sighs again. “Since when is everyone married?” He closes Facebook and props his chin on his fist while reaching for his glass.

*********

There is not enough aspirin in the world, Frederick is sure of that. He wakes face down on the sofa with an irritated and hungry cat standing near his head, meowing at him.

”Ugh, I wish you could tell me what happened last night but I think I already know,” Frederick says to her. She meows again and jumps to the floor as he sits upright. He rubs at his eyes and holds his head and groans. He’s never drinking again, he’s sure of that, for now.

Frederick puts on coffee and feeds the cat while it’s brewing. He rubs his face and looks out of the kitchen window and sighs. Getting drunk might have felt good at the time but clearly it just wasn’t worth it. He has a headache and he really shouldn’t be drinking, his body can’t handle it since his injuries. He knows exactly the damage he could be causing to his remaining kidney but he’s finding it very difficult to find the part of himself that cares about that right now. He rubs a hand absently across his abdomen, along his scar. He shakes his head and pours the coffee. He drinks it down along with the various pills he needs to take and makes his way to the shower.

The day is a bust, he’s too tired to do much of anything now. He curls up on the sofa with his laptop on his knees and the cat next to him. He watches videos on youtube and resolutely avoids clicking through to any of his social media accounts. He really doesn’t want to see any more messages about work.

Despite his decision to ignore work, he can’t help but wonder about it. It’s always the day he doesn’t check that something might go wrong. Things at the hospital might be set up to run smoothly in his absence but the worry still nags at him. As freeing as not having to worry about keeping private clients happy is, he still feels _some_ obligation towards his patients. With a sigh he opens his email and frowns. There are far fewer messages than he was expecting.

He’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. He’s not sure what he expected. Perhaps he secretly wanted the hospital staff to have a list a mile long of things that only he could deal with. The fact that things haven’t fallen apart in less than twenty four hours should be comforting but Frederick just feels irritated and the sense of yet _more_ irritation just serves to irritate him even _more_ in an endless exponential growing mess.

The one email that does catch his eye has the subject matter _Your date is confirmed_. He frowns and opens it. He doesn’t remember booking anything and of course, it’s most likely spam. But no, as Frederick’s eyes skim across the email his mouth goes even drier.

He turns to look at the cat and shakes his head. “What did I do last night?” The cat just blinks at him and he frowns at her. “Well you’re no help, couldn’t have stopped me huh?”

He laughs then. He can’t stop himself. He’s tired and his head hurts and his stomach hurts and the whole situation is just too ridiculous so he laughs.

He stops and catches his breath and curls an arm around his middle and wipes his eyes and looks at the screen once more. “Well,” he says firmly. “They say they’re discrete. I guess that’s my date sorted.” He actually did it. Sure he’s thought about hiring a professional before, what guy hadn’t at least _thought_ about it. It seems he’s actually gone out and _done_ it. He quickly navigates to his bank website and hurriedly logs in to check his credit card statement. Well there it is, he’s already been charged. He shakes his head, at least his drunk self didn’t skimp. For that money she better be a supermodel. He looks at the cat again. “You saw who I picked right?” The cat blinks at him and turns her head away. “Not gonna tell me how hot she is? Blonde? Brunette? Redhead?” The cat jumps down from the couch and wanders off.

Frederick picks up his phone and he scrolls to the bottom of the email. He looks at the phone number and he bites his lip. He should call and cancel. It was just a stupid drunken mistake after all. He can’t _actually_ bring a prostitute to the annual Baltimore mental health professional society dinner, even if it’s one from a fancy escort service with exorbitant fees. The rest of them already look down on him since the incident with Gideon.

For some reason that he can’t quite put his finger on, Frederick puts the phone down and closes his email. “You only live once,” he says but the cat has wandered off somewhere out of view. “That’s what all the kids are saying isn’t it,” he mutters to himself and he feels rather foolish. He can’t help the small knot of worry and excitement that lodges itself in his stomach but at least it makes him feel less anxious about the award situation. He has a whole week to think it over and change his mind and cancel anyway.

*********

Frederick can’t decide on the diamond or sapphire cufflinks. He frowns as he holds up first one and then the other to the light. He has to look perfect tonight, he has to show them all that he can overcome anything.

He’s wearing what was supposed to be his victory suit. The tuxedo he had made to accept his award in and make a speech about overcoming setbacks and the danger of his decision to work with such _lost souls_. At least it’s a damn nice suit. He decides on the diamond, liking the way they catch the light and thinking that diamonds really are _classic_. He fixes his cuffs and checks himself in the mirror. At least he’ll certainly _look_ better than Hannibal tonight.

Frederick quickly puts on his jacket and looks at himself in the mirror again. He sees the cat wander in through the door in the reflection. He turns and makes a hissing noise at her and she gives him an irritated look. He is _not_ getting cat hair anywhere _near_ this suit, not tonight.

For a brief moment he imagines the doorbell ringing and the lady on the doorstep being completely unattractive. If he's paying, he expects the best. His standards are high. The doorbell doesn't ring though so he goes to the kitchen and pours himself an ill advised drink. He holds the glass and finds the weight in his hand oddly comforting even though he doesn't actually drink the wine. He may be under strict orders not to drink any more, but it seems wrong to let his rather nice collection go to waste. The specially installed humidor had come with the house and he had moved in with the intent to make full use of it.

At a loss for anything better to do, he sits stiffly at the dining table with his untouched wine in front of him. He nearly jumps right out of his chair when the doorbell finally does ring. _Please don’t be ugly_ , he thinks as he stands and straightens his jacket for the twentieth time. He used to confidently swing the door right open when the doorbell rang, but these days he's a little more cautious. He peers through the side glass to catch a glimpse of his visitor. Some guy, not his date. _Oh god, what if it's an angry pimp_ , he thinks wildly and he quickly slips the chain into place on the door. He'd had that installed not long after the incident with Gideon too.

Frederick peers through the gap in the door and the man on the porch smiles at him. He has one of those smiles that lights up his whole face and Frederick finds himself rather charmed despite his suspicions.

"Hi, I hope I have the right address, I’m looking for Frederick?" Frederick swallows and stares at the man on the porch for a beat too long. The man frowns at him. "Frederick? Your first time huh? No need to worry, we can talk, whatever you like." He shifts a little and puffs out a breath which mists in the chilly air. Frederick notices that he's dressed in a rather nice grey wool coat. A quick glance downward reveals polished black dress shoes.

 _Fuck_ , thinks Frederick and then he realises he has yet to actually say anything to the man on his porch...his date. “Uh, I’m afraid there's been a mistake," he says and his voice shakes a little at the end. He slams the door shut but regrets it immediately. He struggles with the chain and then swings the door open. The man gives him another wide smile.

”It’s okay, first times can be nerve racking”, the man says and Frederick notices just how boyishly handsome he is. They're about the same height and he seems to be dressed nicely, hair styled and face cleanshaven. Frederick thinks that if he were the type to go on a date with a man, this one would be pretty close to his standards. Frederick shakes his head.

”Are you normally this talkative?” jokes the man and Frederick feels his face growing hot.

”I assure you there's been a mistake,” says Frederick finally. “I booked a _woman_ for tonight.” The man grins at him and Frederick wishes he wouldn't do that, it makes him feel a little off balance inside.

”Oh I saw your message, including your list of demands and _woman_ wasn't one of them…. To be fair I don't think any of the ladies could come close to your specific criteria Frederick.” He leans forward and winks. “Don't worry,” he whispers, “I won’t tell anyone about your special requests.”

The man straightens and thrusts out his hand. “Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Will. Please don’t ask for my full name and life story, this works so much better when we focus on _you_.” Frederick takes the offered hand by reflex and allows Will to shake his hand firmly. Will’s hand is warm and slightly rough as though he spends all day working with them rather than on his back. Frederick finds himself returning Will’s warm smile despite himself.

”So, we're going to a fancy dinner huh?” Asks Will as he casally walks into Fredericks house without any invitation. Frederick finds himself allowing Will to pass him and he watches as Will looks around. “Nice place,” says Will but he doesn’t really sound as though he truly means it. Will looks down as the cat makes her way to him and sniffs at his feet. He smiles down at her and Frederick shakes his head.

“Shoo!” says Frederick softly but the cat doesn't pay any attention. “You'll get cat hair on your suit, she’s been shedding like crazy lately.”

“Well it's almost that time of year isn't it,” says Will with a smile. He doesn't take his eyes off the cat and Frederick finds himself a little annoyed that Will should pay more attention to the cat than him.

“So,” says Will, crouching down and stroking the cat. She arches into his hand and he keeps smiling at her. “This fancy dinner….”

“It's an awards dinner, for the Baltimore Psychiatric Society,” says Frederick, looking at his watch. “Look you have to leave, the car service will arrive at any moment. I'm going to be late.”

“You mean _we_ right?” Asks Will. Will stands up and the cat follows him when he steps back to the doorway to stand in front of Frederick. “This is a date,” he says softly and Frederick finds his mouth going dry as Will presses closer. “I thought you wanted some company,” Will says, his voice is barely above a low whisper, and Frederick can't understand how a few simple words can make him feel so...strange.

“At the very least,” says Will shifting suddenly from those dangerous low tones, “you'll have someone to talk to who isn't a psychiatrist, that’s gotta be an advantage right?” Will grabs Frederick's arm and pulls him outside through the still open front door and Frederick finds himself going with him, despite himself.

*********

The driver didn’t comment or even make eye contact. Frederick would be impressed at the professionalism if he had a moment to think of anything other than his worry. He really doesn’t want to see anyone’s reaction. They pull up in front of the hotel. It’s home to one of the nicer ballrooms in the city, all gilt and cream, pretty but a bit dated for Frederick’s taste. The valet opens Frederick's door for him and he steps out. Frederick leans on his cane from force of habit and waits by the bottom of the steps. Will climbs out behind him. Frederick holds his arms stiffly at his side just in case Will tries to grab onto his elbow. As far as anyone is concerned, Will is a _friend_ who is accompanying Frederick as strictly platonic company. No one need know otherwise.

Will turns and smiles at him and Frederick realises he's been staring at Will’s rather attractive profile. He really wishes Will would stop smiling, directly at Frederick in particular. It makes Frederick feel strange inside every time he does. Will offers his arm to Frederick and Frederick frowns at him until he drops the offered elbow.

”Hey don't worry about it,” says Will in that happy laid back voice. “These types have seen it all, nothing’s gonna surprise them.”

They walk up the steps to the entrance and the doorman opens the door and directs them through to where their party is to take place. Frederick's eyes scan the faces around them as they enter the busy room. There are large round tables set up in the space and Frederick looks around for anyone he might know. A woman in a hideous blue evening gown puts her hand on his shoulder.

”Doctor Chilton!” she says rather too loudly for the volume of the room. She air kisses him but Frederick doesn't respond, just stays still and looks at her in confusion. “It's Sheila, Sheila Marlowe, Steven Marlowe's wife?” She looks at him hopefully and Frederick opens his mouth as his brain catches up with her words.

”Oh of course, how is Steven?” He asks.

”Oh you know, the usual. It's been an age hasn't it? Over a year before...well, all that unpleasantness. I didn’t expect to see you here!” She laughs and it's a little fake sounding. Frederick clenches his jaw at the reminder that perhaps his good standing isn’t quite what it should be. At least he can trust a crowd of psychiatrists to avoid speaking plainly on the matter. The last thing Frederick wants is a bunch of psychiatric professionals, their layman dates for the evening and whoever else has managed to get an invite to this thing all wanting to talk about Gideon. Frederick supposes the time might well come, when Doctor Lecter's portion of the proceedings happens. For the time being Frederick smiles and nods at Sheila Marlowe until she finally grows bored of him.

”I do believe you’ve been placed on that table over there by the side.” She points. “I’m sorry its not the best, i don't know what they were thinking. I think they stuck you with Doctor Ardmore and that trophy wife of his. You should be right at the front, you're always the life of the party Frederick.” She waves her hand dismissively, as she’s suddenly distracted by some new face. Will smiles after her and then leans close to Fredericks ear.

”See? She didn't even ask about me. I told you, no one here is going to care.” Frederick sighs and shakes his head but it doesn't do much of anything. He really wishes Will would be quiet. The strange way he makes Frederick feel is just making dealing with all of this professional embarrassment that much more difficult. The last thing he needs is it getting out that he frequents prostitutes, _male_ prostitutes. Frederick finds himself following Will's lead over to their table. The other guests aren't seated yet and Will pulls out Frederick's chair for him and sits down in the seat marked “Frederick Chilton’s plus one". The whole thing is a bit surreal. He feels tired, exhausted. Perhaps it's months of stress built up, perhaps its the still sharp and bitter disappointment he feels. His paper deserved more, deserved better. He lost a damn kidney for that paper after all. He sighs and taps his fingers on the table. Will puts his hand over Frederick's and gives his hand a squeeze. It takes Frederick a beat too long to pull his hand back. He gives Will what he hopes is a stern look. He's in charge here after all, he's the customer, they're supposed to always be right.

Will seems to sense that Frederick isn't in a talkative mood so they sit in silence. He seems perceptive but then in his line of work that's probably a job requirement. Slowly the room fills up and Frederick scans the crowd from their terrible position. He can’t even see the tables up front, wonders if he’ll even be able to make out who is on stage later on. He thinks he sees Lecter and Alana Bloom being seated at a table near the front, by the stage, but he can’t be sure. Frederick squints, trying to tell if the tops of the heads he’s focused on are the people in question before giving up. If it is Hannibal it makes sense, seated up the front of course, all the better for Hannibal Lecter to make his way to the microphone to give his speech.

”Do you know any of the people at this table?,” asks Will as an elderly man with a cane starts to head in their direction from the entrance, a younger blonde woman, at least five inches taller than him follows close behind. Ah, it’s Doctor Ardmore and his lovely wife.

.

Frederick shrugs. “Just by reputation, and not the good kind. This is a terrible table, they only shove the people they were _forced_ to invite back here.”

If Will wanted to make a comment about Frederick being one of the people that the society only invited because of convention, he doesn't say it. Frederick would be grateful for that if he wasn't so distracted. He feels emotions he can't quite categorise. There's the anger and resentment, that's been weighing on him for weeks, since the announcement went out about the people who were getting recognised this year, but there's something else inside him too. It makes Frederick feel uncomfortable and he grips his cane tightly and taps it against the edge of the table, rocking it back and forth. Will grabs it and stops the movement and Frederick looks at him. Will gives him one of those smiles again and Frederick just feels all the more off balance and confused. This is the strangest evening of his life.

Their table fills up and while there are plenty of stolen glances, no one seems quite prepared to comment on Frederick’s presence, the incident, or even his male date. If anything the judgemental glances seem to be sent mostly in the direction of Doctor Ardmore and his much younger wife. The other couples at the table talk amongst themselves and Frederick is quite happy for them to do so. He has no desire to speak to any of the nobodies he's been shoved to the back with. Have one patient get out of hand and apparently the society wants nothing to do with you.

”So, you come to these things every year,” asks Will. His voice pulls Frederick out of his thoughts and he looks at Will for a moment before clearing his throat.

”Yes...well not last year, but yes, it's on every year and I attend.“ Will nods and looks up towards the direction of the stage...well what they can see of it from here. He's not too talkative and Frederick likes that about him. Perhaps if Will weren't in his current profession, they might have met under other circumstances and been acquaintances. Its a pity that Frederick won't be able to remain in contact with him after tonight. 

Waiters come by and take drink orders. Will orders still water and Frederick doesn't comment. It's probably against policy to drink on the job or something. Frederick thinks if he were forced to sleep with strangers for money he'd need to be pretty drunk to do it. The thought surprises him when he remembers that Will is prepared to sleep with him tonight. If he were into that sort of thing.

Frederick orders a glass of white wine even though he knows it’s the worst idea. He still vividly remembers how he felt the last time he drank. His body will not thank him for this, and his doctors would be less than pleased if they knew, but right now he just wants to get through the evening. He shakes his head and turns to Will.

“I recall you saying you didn't want to talk about yourself but I could use a distraction,” Frederick says. Will smiles at him and for a brief moment, Frederick thinks he can read pity in the way it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey, as long as you’re not picturing some Pretty Woman fantasy,” says Will quietly. Frederick looks at the couple sitting on Will's far side and is glad to see they are engrossed in their own conversation.

”Hardly,” says Frederick and he looks off into the crowded room for a moment. “This is just not how my perfect evening would have gone.” He turns to look at Will and bites his lip for a moment. “Not because of you, just, some professional issues.” Frederick isn't sure why he went to the trouble of trying to spare Will's feelings. It's Will's job to be whatever he wants, to come with him tonight if that's what he wanted. Why should he care if Will thinks he doesn't want him there? But for some reason that Frederick can't explain, he wants Will to feel comfortable. Frederick laughs then and the woman to his right gives him a dirty look before returning to look at her companion.

”Sorry,” says Frederick to Will, his voice quiet so only Will can hear. “I just realised that i find myself thinking like this is an actual date.” He shakes his head. They both go quiet as the waiter drops their drinks off.

”Well this kind of is a date,” says Will softly, watching the waiter move to the far side of the table. He smiles at Frederick again. He really needs to stop doing that. “Just a date that you know I'm going to put out at the end of.”

”I told you I'm not…” says Frederick, but he doesn't bother finishing. It's not that he doesn't appreciate a nice looking man, it's not that he hasn't experimented in the past. Who hadn't? It was simply that he is hardly in the position to be trusting anyone, male or female. Going that far out of his comfort zone with the first person he gets near since the incident doesn't sound like the wisest idea, as nice as Will seems.

”It's okay,” says Will quietly, “we can just treat this as two friends going to a dinner together. I make better company than the rest of these old stiffs right?” Will winks, picks up Frederick’s glass of white wine and takes a sip. Frederick thinks he might die. His feelings are clearly him latching on to the first nice pleasant human interaction he's had in over a year. Yes, that's exactly what this is, that and nothing more.

*********

Despite his worst fears about this evening, Frederick finds himself start to relax. Will actually makes nice company. It’s good to be around someone who he doesn't feel is moments away from asking about Abel Gideon. For a moment here and there, Frederick actually forgets and feels normal. Will whispers to him when Doctor Ardmore dribbles his soup down his front and his wife mops it up. Frederick snorts with laughter at Will's muttered comment and has to hide it in a cough when everyone at the table turns to look at him.

The food isn't very good, Frederick thinks. He eyes the steak that the man across from him is served and pokes at his own salad. There wasn't much in the way of vegetarian options.

”You know you didn't have to order the salad too,” says Frederick . “Unless you’re actually a vegetarian, by choice.” He shakes his head at the thought and Will laughs at him.

”Moral support then,” Will says “or I just wanted a salad.” He winks at Frederick and chomps down on a piece of lettuce. Frederick ends up eating the healthiest meal he could probably get under the circumstances. The second glass of wine he ordered sits untouched and he drinks water instead. He doesn’t even comment on Will’s theft of the first glass.

As they wait for their plates to be cleared, Will leans close. “I thought you’d want to get a little liquid courage into you,” he says, sliding his fingers across the tablecloth to briefly touch the base of Frederick’s wineglass. “Not that you should need it,” he adds.

Frederick shakes his head. “I shouldn't be drinking, uh...medical issues.” He wipes at his mouth with his napkin and turns to look at Will properly. “Not that i need a drink...nothing is happening and I thought you might be happy about that.”

”Maybe I just like you,” says Will and he smiles and for a moment Frederick thinks he means it, for real.

”You're way too good at this,” mutters Frederick and he turns towards the stage as another speaker makes her way up. “No wonder you cost so much,” he adds, too quiet for Will to hear.

The talk is boring, a short little thing about the work the society is doing in advancing understanding of the human mind. Frederick has to resist rolling his eyes. The woman on the small stage outlines the run down of the evening and attempts to crack a few jokes that don't really go over all that well. At the end she even insists that Doctor Lecter stand up so everyone can see him and fawn over him extra hard before they actually do any award presenting at all.

Everyone applauds politely at the smiling Lecter, everyone but Frederick and Will. Will bites his lip and frowns, watching Frederick. Having someone pay him so much attention when everyone else is looking elsewhere makes Frederick feel suddenly self conscious. He reaches to pick up his wine as if by reflex. He swallows a mouthful then looks sideways at Will. Will looks at him with concern and Frederick shakes his head. As the whole room applauds, they look at one another and finally they both smile in what Frederick hopes is mutual reassurance.

”I hope you don't want to take up any mingling after the meal,” says Will as the applause dies down and the woman steps down from the stage.

”Nope, I'm heading home as soon as I can leave without losing face,” says Frederick . Will reaches out and takes his glass of wine from his hand.

”Glad to hear it,” says Will and he downs the rest of the glass. “This really isn’t my crowd.” he shifts a little in his seat then and puts the glass down. it’s the first time Frederick has seen him exude anything but easy confidence. Perhaps Will is bluffing just as much as Frederick is.

*********

When the opportunity to leave and not make a spectacle of himself arises, part of Frederick feels a little sad about the whole thing. The evening has actually been kind of pleasant in a way, despite what he had felt going into it. Will has been nice company and Frederick has found himself laughing and enjoying himself. It almost doesn't seem right to go so soon.

Will follows Frederick into the backseat of the car and the driver keeps his eyes on the road as they travel towards Frederick's house. "It's been nice," says Frederick, uneasily. And it has, it really has. "I um, I appreciate the company and…." He trails off and he's not sure how he's trying to steer the conversation. He almost wishes he were drunk right now, if only to have some outside force to place the blame on.

"It has," says Will with another of those smiles and Frederick wants it to make him feel more relaxed when all it does it tighten that feeling in his gut further.

When they arrive at the house, Frederick tries to think of the right way to send Will home. The last thing he wants is for the driver to get any ideas of what they're up to. But the driver pulls away before they've even reached the front door and takes away Frederick's resolve to send Will away right this instant. He doesn't even need to say anything, doesn't need to extend a formal invitation. He opens the door and Will follows him inside and it's fine, it really is. He makes a beeline for the kitchen and pours water and looks around helplessly for a moment.

"Would you like a drink?" he asks, gesturing to the selection of wines and Will smiles and shakes his head.

"Water is fine," and they walk to the sofa each carrying a glass.

"I actually enjoyed tonight," Frederick says as he seats himself on the sofa, careful to leave a wide gap between them. The cat wanders in and jumps into the space he's left and Frederick is happy for the distraction. He scratches the base of her skull and she purrs.

"Not worried about cat hair any more?" asks Will and Frederick shakes his head.

"I don't have anyone's opinions to worry about any more."

"That's very true," says Will taking a swallow of water and putting the crystal tumbler down on the coffee table. "You can do whatever it is you really want to do now."

It takes a moment for Frederick's brain to catch up with the implication of Will's words. "Oh," he says softly and he looks sideways at Will. Will laying back onto the sofa, looking comfortable and relaxed somehow. Will who must have done this countless times, Will who is a pro at this. "I'm actually not, I mean, I'm not."

"It's okay," says Will and he smiles that amazing bright smile again. "Most guys just want to talk you know, you'd be surprised." Will pets the cat and Frederick looks down at her. She looks up at him and Frederick looks away. He doesn't like how judgemental that damn cat looks all the time.

"Well, I'm not lonely or anything," says Frederick, looking at the darkened window. He wants to see out to the garden but it just reflects the inside of the room back at him. "I didn't want to attend a professional function by myself, I assure you I've never done anything like that before. Will nods at him, Frederick can see the reflection in the darkened window. Frederick looks at the dark Will in the window and stares intently at his face, taking his first opportunity to properly examine Will without feeling so self conscious about staring. "I mean, it was a tough night tonight and you, well...it was nice to have a bit of company, someone who wasn't involved in my...past." Thankfully Will doesn't say anything. But then not so thankfully he shifts a little closer. The cat makes a grumpy sound and jumps down from the sofa, leaving them with no barrier between them at all.

"I get it," says Will. "Don't we all just want to feel a little normal now and then, feel a little bit less lonely?" Frederick would mention how Will seems rather perceptive for an escort but he doesn't want to verbalise it. It almost seems cruel to Will to bring up his profession right now and really deep down, Frederick doesn't want to think about the fact that he's paying Will to be here.

"I have to say, it was nice to have someone on my side there tonight."

"Yeah," says Will and shifts a little closer. “But watch out, you’re sounding more and more human by the second.” Will’s fingers brush the side of Frederick's leg.

"What does that mean," says Frederick, surprised. He pulls his eyes away from the reflected version of them in the window. He looks at Will’s hand and frowns. "I just...I'm not into this and I, I would prefer for us to be strictly platonic friends." He realises how stupid he sounds right then and there. Will is not his friend, tonight was a paid exchange, one that was intended to involve...Frederick isn't even sure anymore. Sex or companionship or something to make him feel a little more connected and human than he has for the past several months.

"Whatever you want Frederick," says Will and Frederick turns in time to see another one of those frustratingly easy and handsome smiles as Will moves back across the sofa and picks up his glass of water. "I had a good time too," he says and Frederick thinks that Will is really _good_ at what he does, to make Frederick totally believe that it's true, for a just a moment.

Will is good, too good in fact because he's launching into an easy conversation and asking Frederick about his choice of furniture and his wonderful house and it's easy and doesn't require all that much thought and Frederick feels comfortable and happy and he's forgetting that Will is not really his friend all over again. It's too easy, too perfect but Frederick is sick of thinking about it so he doesn't and for a just a moment, he thinks he really does wish he was gay because Will is handsome and sweet and Frederick would _really_ like to kiss him right now.

*********

For the briefest of moments upon waking, Frederick doesn’t think he’s alone any more. He’s not but his sleeping companion turns out to be the cat meowing grumpily as he turns over and sends her jumping to the floor.

He lies in bed for far too long. Not tired exactly but not in the mood to get up and face the day. He thinks about last night and as much as he wants to reflect on the professional side of things, thinking with bitterness about Lecter’s frustratingly perfect speech, he keeps returning to Will. He thinks the feeling in his stomach is sadness or guilt. Something to do with the thought that he'll never see him again and after their easy camaraderie that ran so long into the night that Frederick isn’t even sure exactly when Will left.

When Frederick does finally get up it's to deal with the cat's ever more annoying mewling cries and the complaints of his own bladder. He emerges from the bathroom and steps over the cat, heading to his dressing table. He almost feels guilty for checking the jewellery box that stores his collection of various cufflinks and tie pins. They’re all there and Frederick is relieved, but more so because it means Will didn’t do anything than because of the thought of losing any of his trinkets. The cat winds around his legs impatiently and Frederick sighs, turning away from the dressing table.

He walks down to the kitchen, fills the cat’s bowl and watches her start to eat, enjoying the brief silence and stillness in the house. He pours a cup of coffee for lack of anything better to do and sits on the sofa with it. It's midday and he's sitting on the sofa in a silk dressing gown and he didn't even have much of a wild night last night. He smiles at the image of Dr Ardmore and his ridiculous trophy wife and for a moment he actually wants to blurt out "remember when Dr Ardmore...." but he's alone and Will has gone home or to wherever it is that he goes when he’s not on the clock. Will was hardly going to stay, even if Frederick had wanted him to.

The thought of going back to his grind tomorrow fills Frederick with a feeling that he has felt before but hasn't really thought much about. He’s been pushing it down inside for months, ever since he was released from the hospital. As a professional he knows he'd suggest therapy if it were anyone else. He'd recommend it with himself of course, so he could give the best level of care and find out the most. The human mind is so fascinating and yet he dreads going inside his own. Will's head, now that seems like a fun place to go. Full of easy confidence and carefree smiles. Will must be someone special to be able to do what he does. Or maybe he's just that good of an actor.

Frederick catches himself staring into space, not really thinking of anything particular other than small memories of how he had felt those carefree moments last night. He finally pulls himself up to wander upstairs. He stands in front of the entrance to his walk in wardrobe for far too long debating on whether to dress or not before deciding against it. Even he needs a day off from being put together. He returns to the sofa again to the spot that’s still warm. He shoos the cat from the dent in the cushions and turns on his laptop instead.

He browses a number of completely inconsequential websites for far too long when he finally sighs and goes for his email. He doesn't want to think about work right now, doesn’t want to worry about trying to connect with people, but he goes in anyway, skimming the subjects and rolling his eyes occasionally. The one at the top catches his eye though and he sees it's a follow up email from Will's escort service. Frederick snorts and opens it. "Hope you enjoyed your date blah blah blah" says Frederick out loud. You'd swear they were running some...legitimate hospitality business he thinks with a frown. But then at the bottom of the email they've thrown in a little note "from your date" and even though Frederick is pretty sure Will _didn't_ write this, he feels a little flutter in his chest at the typed words. "I had a great time and I'd love to see you again soon. Will. xxx."

"Well that seems a bit forward," says Frederick looking up but the cat isn't even around for him to speak to. He really needs to stop spending so much time alone. It's a pity Will is so expensive, he'd be nice company.

Frederick's time passes slowly, tortuously so. He grows frustrated with his emails quickly and closes the laptop. He finally goes to raid the fridge and see the food delivery that he had put away without thinking several days ago. He shakes his head at the state of his fridge and the build up of the same items that keep arriving that he hasn’t used up yet. He thinks about hiring a new housekeeper for not the first time in the months since he got home. The only regular visitor has been his cleaning company and happily enough they only ever come when he’s not around. He really does need a housekeeper but he doesn’t particularly want other people around him, not any more.

Frederick gathers the various types of cheeses that he always gets delivered and opens a fresh box of cheese biscuits. He frowns at the cheese platter and grimaces at the thought of having to eat it chilled. He’s hungry now though, and at least no one is around to see his faux pas.

By early evening Frederick is officially bored. It's strange. He's been by himself and not gone out much for several months now. It's been....quiet. And yet now he feels like it would be so nice to have some company after all. It would be so nice to have someone to sit with and talk to about things that don't inevitably come back around to his work or Abel Gideon or how it feels to get cut open like that. Frederick sighs and drops his head back against the sofa.

"You're not even drunk this time," says Frederick to the ceiling. He knows it's stupid, but he finds his hand going for his laptop and pulling up the website to find the phone number. He's reaching for his phone and even though he knows it's stupid, there he is reaching for it anyway.

*********

It's three hours before Will arrives. and it's dark out but still too early for Frederick to feel tired. The doorbell rings and a little thrill of excitement runs through him and he straightens his tie before opening the door. Will looks a little tired, different now, a little rougher wearing a loose shirt tucked into jeans. He's got the beginning of a little scruff starting to show on his face from not shaving since the day before but he smiles at Frederick and Frederick remembers why he wanted to see him.

"I have to say, I didn't expect to get a call about a last minute appointment," says Will, looking him up and down. “And you so dressed up, hope you’re not planning on taking me somewhere fancy again.” Will gestures to his jeans and Frederick flushes. He feels silly even though he’d just dressed in one of his usual suits.

Will walks past Frederick into his house. The cat comes running and Will reaches down to stroke her. "I never asked her name," he says absently, scooping the cat up into his arms and Frederick is relieved and happy to launch right into a conversation about something so simple and easy.

The explanation of cat's name or lack thereof takes them all the way to the seating area and Frederick offers Will a drink. As before, it's just water and they both take a glass from the kitchen. The cat is allowed to escape back to the floor and she runs off out of sight.

”I’d say you should give her a name but I think cat fits her well enough,” says Will softly. Frederick nods but doesn’t respond, not sure what to say. Should he explain? Apologise? Tell Will that he had a strange moment earlier and that’s why he called and actually, Will can just go home now? But Frederick doesn’t want him to leave.

”I’m a dog person,” says Will with a wry smile and Frederick is relieved for the distraction.

”You have a dog?” Frederick asks and Will shrugs.

”Yeah, a couple,” he glances around the room. “So really, why’d you want to see me again? I mostly deal with regulars and to be honest, I think we could work out a regular thing, even if you don’t think you want the….” Will stops talking as he sees the flush rising up Frederick’s neck. Will breaks out into one of those wide easy smiles and turns on the sofa to face Frederick a little better. “It’s okay,” he says softly, “sometimes it’s nice just to talk.”

Wordless, Frederick nods and picks at the edge of the sofa absent mindedly. “I guess I just like the company,” he says, by way of an explanation. It sounds so pathetic to his own ears but Will just keeps smiling and reaches across to pat the back of Frederick’s hand. “We can just hang out, just talk, whatever you want,” says Will gently. “To be honest, it’s nice to have someone _just_ want to talk.”

Frederick finds himself laughing nervously but then he realises that he probably sounds quite guilty of thinking of those things other than talking. He chokes it down and goes silent. Will smiles and for the first time it looks a little forced, or maybe that’s just Frederick’s imagination.

”Relax,” says Will softly and he pats Frederick’s hand. “Whatever you want, this is up to you.” Frederick nods. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself? I already know you’re a psychiatrist, that must be interesting?”

”Well yes,” says Frederick, suddenly flustered. He feels his face go red as he struggles with how to say that he doesn’t want to talk about it without killing the tentative start to a conversation. Will must be a mind reader though because he shifts in his seat again and looks around the room. “You have a really nice home, very...tasteful,” says Will. He turns to Frederick and there’s a twinkle in his eye and Frederick frowns.

”Not your taste I take it?” asks Frederick and Will nods. Will purses his lips and looks at one of the larger paintings, tilting his head as he takes in the splashes of colour and shapes.

”I mean, I get the appeal, modern art and all that...it just, it’s not doing anything for me.” Will shrugs looking back at Frederick. “I guess that’s art huh.” Frederick nods.

”Well it was all picked out by Baltimore’s _top_ interior decorator.” He looks around the room. “I guess it’s nice.”

”Wow,” says Will, “did you pick out a single thing in here?” Frederick frowns at that.

”Well I picked out the designer,” he responds, a sudden feeling of defensiveness. “So I’d argue it was _all_ my choice. I did have to approve all of the selections you know.”

Will laughs then and it sounds so easy. That boyish grin is back on his face. Frederick suddenly feels rather stupid for feeling so hurt about it. He pauses for a moment. Maybe Will has a point. “I guess it is a little impersonal, I suppose the look is more aspirational than homely.”

”So this is who you want to be?” asks Will gesturing around the room with it’s white marble and extravagant artwork.

Frederick isn’t quite sure how to react to that. He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again, unsure how to react. “Well,” he finally says, haltingly. “I guess I never thought about it like that.”

Will has an uncanny ability to just get to right where Frederick is feeling a little sore and then backing away and diverting to another topic. Yet Will’s motivations don’t feel self serving or suspicious, not in the way the people around him have been since Gideon. Frederick feels both off balance and yet more comfortable than he’s been in another’s company in _months_.

They talk variously about Frederick’s attire, “Too much for every day,” according to Will, Frederick’s car, “Nice,” in Will’s opinion, and, when she makes a reappearance, Frederick’s cat. “Not as good as a dog but I still like her,” says Will.

Frederick yawns and he wishes he could take it back the moment he sees the shift in Will. “It’s late,” says Will quietly, “I should probably go.” He shifts a little closer on the sofa. “Unless you want me to say,” he says, his voice going low and purring and suddenly sexual in a way that throws Frederick completely off.

Frederick swallows hard. “I told you, I...I don’t want _that_ just, just to talk.” Will smiles and he suddenly changes back into that friendly man, the one who wasn’t coming onto him a moment ago.

”It’s okay, whatever you’re comfortable with,” says Will with a smile. He stands. “I’ll head home then, you should get some rest, you look tired.” Will turns to walk to the door and Frederick suddenly remembers his manners in time to hurry after him. Will turns at the front door. “This was nice.”

Frederick nods and looks down, frowning and unsure what to say. Will’s finger is suddenly under his chin lifting his face up and then Will is pressing his lips against Frederick’s. It’s soft and warm and chaste and _brief_ and Frederick is too stunned to move or respond. Will pulls away and smiles at him. Will flashes another of those smiles, beaming and bright. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” he says and that just makes Frederick’s face feel like it’s on fire.

Will turns and walks out the door, climbing into the car that looks so wrong next to Frederick’s Mercedes. Frederick watches Will pull out of the drive, through the gate and off down the road. Frederick shivers and realises he’s been standing at the open door in the night air. He steps inside and closes the door, leaning against it.

Frederick has always hated talking with other psychiatrists, feeling like they were only interested in figuring him out. He can’t blame them, he knows how they think with patients, he does the same thing himself. Will isn’t a psychiatrist though, doesn’t even know much about him and yet Frederick feels as he imagines his own patients might after a really great session. He smiles and then realises his hand has come to rest softly against his lips without even thinking about it.

The only thing left is to convince Will that he really does just want to talk, then maybe this can become a regular thing with him, something like a _friendship_. Frederick goes to bed with a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

*********

Perhaps it’s sad that the brightest spot in Frederick’s week has become the evenings he spends with Will. Work is work, repetitive and boring and he _hates_ the hospital for everything it represents to his career and his life. Yet he does it, he goes in and sits in his office and speaks to those he needs to speak to and dreads speaking to certain visiting psychiatrists. He doesn’t think about Gideon quite as often, thankfully.

If he truly thought about it when they were together, perhaps his conversations with Will wouldn’t feel quite so wonderful and relaxed and comfortable as they do. So he doesn’t think about it. He wants things to feel as normal as possible and Will must know that, or perhaps it’s exactly what he wants too.

It hadn’t taken long for them to settle into their little routine. Will calling over, commenting on Frederick’s insistence on dressing up and Frederick’s half hearted defense of his tie. Sitting and talking. Will greeting the cat who seems to like him more than she does Frederick, who just thinks the cat is a traitor. Their conversations about anything and everything other than themselves. Frederick has taken to poring over the newspaper for current events before Will’s visits.

On Will’s fourth visit, Frederick cooks dinner. He’s embarrassed by it, unsure of how the gesture will be interpreted. Will just sits and smiles across the table and complements Frederick’s attempt at vegetarian lasagne.

”I didn’t realise you were a vegetarian,” says Will with a smile after his first bite. “This is really good.” Frederick looks down at his plate. The presentation leaves a lot to be desired. He’d _tried_ , not everyone was a Hannibal Lecter. He shakes his head to clear the memory of the last dinner party he’d been invited to.

”Not exactly by choice,” says Frederick with a forced smile and he takes a bite himself, chewing and swallowing. It really isn’t that bad. Perhaps he needn’t order in quite so often after all. “My body can’t handle meat, uh...medical issues.” He winces and really hopes that Will doesn’t probe any further. Thankfully he doesn’t.

”I’m sorry,” says Will smiling and then he pulls that trick of his of knowing exactly when to change the topic before things go too far. “Anyway, you cook a mean veggie dinner so I’m happy.” He takes another enthusiastic bite and winks at Frederick. Frederick hastily returns his eyes to his plate.

”I don’t think I’m much of a cook,” says Frederick, admitting his shortcoming out loud. It’s not like him, but then he feels like he can trust Will not to use it to mock him later. “I usually order in.”

”This is nicer than ordering in,” says Will. Frederick looks up and Will reaches a hand across and lays it on the back of Frederick’s. “Thank you for cooking me dinner.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Frederick realises he’s been staring at Will for a little too long. “You’re welcome,” he manages to stammer out before pulling his hand away to cut another piece of lasagne and push it into his mouth before he makes an even bigger fool of himself. He spends the rest of the meal cursing himself for making dinner, for giving Will the _wrong idea_. Will hasn’t tried to kiss him since he moved too near to Frederick at the close of his second visit and saw the look on his face. What will he think now?

They eat in relative silence, Will making occasional remarks on the food or asking after the cat, topics that Frederick has designated as _safe_ through earlier conversation. Will helps him clear the table and they load the dishwasher in turn. It all feels very domestic and _normal_.

”Why do you only use your cane when you’re out?” asks Will suddenly and Frederick clenches his jaw at the reminder of the things he doesn’t want to talk about.

”It’s difficult to walk for long periods,” says Frederick quietly, not looking up from the casserole dish with the rest of the lasagne. “Do you think this will keep?” he asks in an attempt at changing the subject.

Will smiles. “Sure, just cover it up.” He leans a hip against the counter as Frederick looks a little lost in his own kitchen, wondering where exactly the plastic wrap is. “I was just curious, you know, to learn a little about you,” says Will as Frederick opens cabinets one by one.

”I’m sorry,” says Frederick as he finally discovers the roll. He starts trying to cover the leftovers but the plastic wrap keeps catching back on itself and he gets frustrated. Will reaches and takes the roll from him, efficiently wrapping the dish and turning to put it in the fridge. “It’s just, one of those things I can’t talk about.”

Will closes the fridge, turning and leaning his back against it. He cocks his head just a bit and studies Frederick. “ _I’m_ sorry,” he says and he’s so heartbreakingly sincere in those words that Frederick just feels terrible. “I guess I thought it would be nice to know a little more about you.”

”Why?” asks Frederick, more from shock than anything else. His mouth goes a little dry. He doesn’t want to lose this, whatever it is. Friendship maybe? But it’s something easier than a friendship.

Will smiles and laughs softly. “I like you Frederick, that’s all.”

Frederick doesn’t respond. He can feel his heart beating in his chest, racing even. He’s not even sure why those words would make him feel like this. He feels stupid when he remembers who Will is, _what_ he is. He’s here to say whatever Frederick wants to hear isn’t he? In either case, it couldn’t be true, what possible reason would Will have to like him?

”What if I want to know more about you?” asks Frederick, more in defense than anything else. Will’s smile falters a bit.

”I guess that’s fair,” says Will. “But I...I don’t want to talk about my other clients.”

The words bring images of faceless men....or does Will service women too? Frederick hadn’t really thought about it. The thought of the _other_ clients feels unsettling to him. ”I suppose that wouldn’t be professional,” Frederick muses.

”Yeah, something like that.”

*********

Their visits go by and before Frederick knows it, he’s known Will for a grand total of two months. Their relationship, _friendship_ , Frederick hopes, is going well. Will is a nice outlet. Frederick has started letting out little things, here and there. Will is the first person he’s trusted enough to share his feelings with in a long time.

It’s gradual at first, Frederick mentions his work and that he runs a hospital and Will looks suitably impressed. Will tells Frederick about his dogs but doesn’t talk about _his_ work. It’s just as well, Frederick is pretty certain he doesn’t want to hear about it anyway.

Eventually they’ve known each other just long enough to have a few shared memories to discuss and Frederick can’t help but let it all out when he starts talking about that first evening they met.

”It was just that award...it wasn’t the _award_ so much as who they gave it to,” grumbles Frederick. It’s not something he planned on talking about but once it’s out, it feels too good to stop. Will smiles indulgently.

”So your work was better? Or….” Will trails off and sighs. “There’s something else isn’t there?” Will is too perceptive for his own good.

Frederick reaches for his cane before remembering he left it by the door. A reflex, to grasp it for some sense of a familiar object when he’s on such new ground with Will. “You do that a lot,” says Will. Frederick looks up sharply. “Reach for your cane, I’ve seen you do it. When it’s near you hold onto it so tight.”

”Just a force of habit,” mutters Frederick and wishes Will would pull his trick of changing the subject. That would be too easy though, things between them have become too normal and equal to just talk about what Frederick wants every time.

”That’s something you don’t talk about,” says Will thoughtfully. “I understand if you don’t want to, that’s fine.” Frederick takes a deep breath and looks at Will’s face. He doesn’t want to say anything, he’s seen the looks on people’s faces. Will is the first person since the incident who doesn’t look at him with pity, who doesn’t just see him as a victim. Frederick bites his lip.

He wants to talk about it, he wants to let it out and scream and yell about the unfairness of it all, the terror and horror and rage he’s felt since it happened. He wants to scream at the way everyone has looked at him since, and the worst part is that if he does that, he’ll just end up turning Will into yet another one of those people, no longer seeing Frederick Chilton but simply Abel Gideon’s victim. He’ll be just the fool who wasn’t good enough to see though Gideon, wasn’t smart enough to talk his way out of it, wasn’t strong enough to get away.

Will’s hand rests on the back of his own, sitting on his thigh and he didn’t realise he was gripping his thigh so tightly, didn’t realise he was shaking. “It’s okay,” says Will softly. “Whatever happened, you’re here with me now, you’re safe.” And Will’s arm is around him and he’s pressed close and Will is warm and firm and soft all at once. He’s surrounded by Will’s arms and he _feels_ safe and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just talk about it.

Frederick pulls away and looks at Will’s face. Will who looks at him so calmly, not with pity but simple concern. He opens his mouth to speak but instead he leans forward and if he asked himself, he couldn’t explain why he’d done it but he leans in close and kisses Will.

Will is the one that ends it, gripping Frederick’s shoulders and pressing him back. Will smiles at him. “It’s not that I don’t want that, not that I should be in a position to say no,” says Will, voice so quiet that Frederick needs to stare intently at him to make out every word. “It’s that it wouldn’t be right to take advantage of you like this.”

Frederick collapses back against the sofa but Will pulls him close with an arm around his shoulders. Frederick wants to laugh at how stupid the whole thing is, how ridiculous for Will to turn _him_ down. But then he’s pressing harder into Will’s side and Will holds him close and it hasn’t actually changed anything. With anyone else he’d be embarrassed, jumping into damage control mode to make an excuse for his behaviour. Will is safe though, Will just accepts and leans close and presses a kiss to Frederick’s forehead and perhaps Will could be more than a friend.

They both sit in silence, their little bubble of tranquil quiet and Frederick feels the itch of the tears on his face and he swipes at them. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I feel stupid.”

”Don’t,” says Will, voice just as soft, rubbing a hand up and down Frederick’s arm.

Frederick wiggles to swipe at his face. “It’s not, this, not you, it’s….something happened to me, last year and...things have been all messed up ever since.” Will doesn’t respond, doesn’t say anything other than a slight shushing noise as he strokes along Frederick’s arm, rhythmic and soothing.

”I feel like I’m a completely different person depending where I look,” says Frederick, his eyes drifting shut, tiredness sinking into his bones. “Every time a different face, for different people. It’s been nice, not having to be something….” He trails off and he’s not sure what he even means but perhaps Will does because he makes a noise of acknowledgment and presses his head against the top of Frederick’s own. “Last year something happened, something bad.” It feels good to say it. A sudden release of tension and Will is still stroking his arm, his chest still rising and falling evenly under his ear.

”It’s okay Frederick, you don’t need to tell me this,” says Will quietly into Frederick’s hair.

”I wanted to,” Frederick whispers and he presses close to Will’s chest, eyes shut and he listens to Will’s breathing. “That’s why I have a cane, why I can’t eat meat, why it _hurt_ so much to lose that award.” Frederick takes a deep breath and he feels like he’s letting go of some nasty secret. Will’s hand against his arm squeezes briefly and Frederick relaxes against Will. He listens to Will’s steady heartbeat and finds himself drifting to sleep.

*********

Frederick doesn’t go to work in the morning, though perhaps he should. He wakes on the sofa, a blanket over him and his shoes lined up neatly on the floor. He looks at his folded tie on the coffee table and closes his eyes again.

It’s an easy decision to make, as he heads to his bedroom. He strips off and enters the en suite, stepping into the shower and making the water as hot as he can bear. He’s in a daze as he washes himself and his hands run over his torso. He can’t help but trace ridges of scars, paler but not yet faded. He remembers one of the surgeons telling him that it would be like he couldn’t see it once it had fully healed. He’s sure it was all for show, something they say to all of their patients whose injuries are from such traumatic events. They’d had that look on their faces too.

He lets the water run over his head and thinks about Will, his smile and his comforting touch. If it were a patient describing such intimate emotions, Frederick would probably make the assessment that they were just lonely, latching onto someone safe. Frederick doesn’t want that to be true though, he wants Will to mean _something_.

It’s more of his morning shower habit than any real need that has him reaching for his cock. He strokes it and closes his eyes, trying to conjure up whatever image he can. He thinks about Alana Bloom in a particularly low cut dress he’d seen her wearing once. It doesn’t seem to want to do the trick though. His mind wanders a bit as he mechanically strokes himself, leaning his other hand against the tile. He grows hard and for a moment he doesn’t even realise that he’s thinking about Will’s lips against his own, then imagining them lower. He groans at the mental picture. Will is no doubt talented in that area. Frederick bites his lip, wills himself to think about something else, someone else, preferably someone with breasts. As he gets closer to the edge, he doesn’t _want_ to think about anyone else though. In his mind Will is holding him down and whispering in his ear and it’s sexy and thrilling, not scary.

He watches the water rinse away the remnants of his orgasm and immediately afterwards he feels a knot of tension in his gut. How can he expect things to be normal with Will now? Sure he’s masturbated to acquaintances before, Alana mostly, but this is different. Will is different, isn’t he? Frederick sighs and stands under the water, staring unseeing at the shower drain and the endless swirl of liquid. The beat of the water against the back of his skull makes it a little easier to just not think for a few minutes.

He doesn’t leave the shower until the water is cold enough to cause him to shiver. He scrubs at his hair with the towel and looks in the mirror. He frowns, dropping the towel and leaning against the counter to peer at his reflection. He scratches at his beard. He really should go to the barber, get a haircut, have his beard trimmed, look as _polished_ as he usually does, or at least used to. How you look is important, he thinks looking at himself in the mirror, turning side to side to see his reflection, how else will people judge you if not by your appearance. He’s a good looking man, he tells himself all the time, but now he just wonders if he’s good looking enough.

It takes a few moments of back and forth between making excuses and finding himself dressing anyway. He takes his cane from beside the door and strides out to his car and by the time he’s on the road, it’s too late to turn back.

He’s glad to be important enough to be welcomed with open arms without an appointment and seated and fussed over and it’s been far too long since Frederick went in for the works and not just a quick haircut to appear presentable. There’s something special about being a little pampered.

On his way home, Frederick finds himself smiling and feeling _good_ about himself. He’s not sure why he should suddenly feel like this now, there’s no reason for him not to feel like this all the time and yet whatever has happened lately, he smiles and turns the radio on.

*********

”You look good.”

The words are out of Will’s mouth and he’s walking into Frederick’s house like it’s the most normal and natural thing in the world for him to have said it.

”Um...thanks,” says Frederick, running a hand across his hair, then brushing at his tie. In some abstract way he’s sure he _always_ looks good but for some reason when Will says it, the words have some different connotation to them.

”How have you been?” Asks Will, heading to the kitchen and pouring a glass of juice from the fridge. He’s so at home now, knowing where the things in Frederick’s kitchen are, feeling comfortable enough to get a drink without asking.

”Okay, busy with work, as usual,” says Frederick, distracted in watching Will as he bends down to greet the cat. “It’s nice to see you,” he adds, as much to have something to say than anything else. It is more than nice to see Will.

Will smiles broadly down at the cat but something in the timing of it makes Frederick feel like that particular smile is for _him_. “How are _you_?” asks Will of the cat. She rubs against his legs a bit then meows loudly. “You’d swear he never feeds you,” Will whispers conspiratorially. Frederick rolls his eyes.

”Ganging up on me now?” Frederick asks and Will laughs, standing up straight. They’re comfortable like this. Just having a conversation with this thread of familiarity and comfort. This is something they can both deal with, something they can talk about, something they _know_.

Frederick orders in sushi for dinner and they sit and talk. Frederick can’t help but gush about how he’s not dreaded going into work this week, about how things seem easier. Will pats his knee and smiles at him and it’s comforting, feeling like someone might actually care about how he’s feeling.

Will pops a piece of sashimi in his mouth and Frederick frowns. “I miss that,” he says quietly and he takes another veggie roll and pops it in his mouth.

”You can’t have a little bit?” asks Will curiously. “Not that I want to tempt you if you can’t.” Frederick shakes his head.

”Well I _could_ , I could do a lot of things. The question is if I _should_.” Frederick looks up at Will and he sees something pass over Will’s face. They’re both silent for just a beat too long into uncomfortable silence before Will is shifting in his seat and smiling.

”Well I won’t tempt you then,” he says with a smile, putting his plate down on the coffee table and pushing it away. “You know we always eat here, in the living room. The only time you ever had me in the dining room was when you made me dinner.” Frederick feels his face growing hot at the memory. How foolish he must have looked, cooking dinner for Will like some…. “That was really great, you’re a good cook.” Of course Frederick can’t remain in those darker thoughts when Will’s around. He certainly has a knack for making Frederick mirror that smile that crosses his face.

”It’s not so bad being a vegetarian when you’re such a good cook,” says Will and Frederick feels his face heat a little at the praise. He of course knows he’s a good cook, he’s good at lots of things. Somehow having Will acknowledge it feels nice though, really nice.

”Well thanks, I guess I had to make the best of my situation.”

”Maybe sometime you’ll cook for me again,” says Will softly and Frederick looks at him, reading the touch of shyness in his demeanor. It’s strange and yet Frederick finds it so very endearing to see the edges of Will’s attitude of constant confidence.

”I’d actually like that,” he says, surprising himself with his own words. “As long as you don’t mind more vegetarian food.” Will grabs his hand and Frederick freezes in place, caught off guard.

”I mean it Frederick, I liked it, it was nice to see that you….I mean I felt….never mind.” Will smiles and Frederick isn’t quite sure what to make of Will’s almost admission of _something_. For a moment he wonders if Will was about to tell him something personal.

Frederick isn’t sure why he’s speaking, what made him start but he’s blurting the words out before he can control them. “The bad thing that happened to me....I was attacked, by a patient.” Will squeezes his hand but doesn’t say anything. “He cut me open and it was...I lost a kidney and some intestine and it’s messed up how my body handles food and other stuff too. _That’s_ why I use the cane.”

”It’s okay Frederick, you don’t have to,” says Will softly. Frederick tries to smile but he can’t seem to make his face obey his order to cover up how he’s feeling. He squeezes Will’s hand back.

”I wanted to,” he says softly. “It was in the papers, the news, ‘The Chesapeake Ripper’ they called him, you must have heard about it.” Will shrugs. Frederick doesn’t really want to know if Will has read the lurid stories written in the paper. He trusts Will to just say what he needs to hear.

”Hey it’s okay Frederick, that’s what friends do, they listen,” He pulls Frederick’s hand against his own chest and threads their fingers together. “We’ve all got these dark things inside, things that have happened, things we’d rather forget. You’re not alone, anything you want to say, I’m here to listen.”

”Thanks,” Frederick says and his voice sounds so tiny even to his own ears. Will’s fingers are warm and solid and it actually feels nice to have his own fingers threaded with Will’s.

There’s a warm kind of relaxed comfort to sitting in silence with Will. Frederick doesn’t even register that their fingers are still laced together.

They sit in silence for a long time until Will’s hand comes up and strokes through Frederick’s hair absently. Frederick turns and looks at Will. “You should tell me something now,” says Frederick quietly. He watches as Will bites his lip. “...or never mind.” Frederick adds, pulling away from Will’s hands, slipping his fingers out of Will’s grip. “Sorry, shouldn’t have said anything.”

Will grabs his hand back and closes his other hand over the top, trapping Frederick’s fingers between his warm palms. “What do you want to know?” asks Will. He sounds resigned, sad. Frederick looks closely at his face and Will looks away, his face a blank mask without an obvious emotion that Frederick can read.

There are a million questions that Frederick wants to ask and they all tumble around inside his head. He wants to know so much about Will about what he does, _why_ he does what he does. Yet when Frederick looks at Will’s face, glances down at where Will holds onto his hand Frederick suddenly feels guilty.

”Never mind,” Frederick says, squeezing Will’s hand. “I only want to hear what you want to share with me.” Will turns back, smiles but not his usual bright smile that makes Frederick feel as though the sun is shining on him in summer. This smile makes Will look even more sad. Will leans in and brushes his lips against Frederick’s.

”Thank you,” Will whispers. Frederick isn’t sure why but it feels like enough, for now.

*********

Frederick feels nervous, at least he’s sure that’s what it is. It’s probably just that he hasn’t been out to dinner in a while, not one on one. He hasn’t been on a date in forever, but he tells himself for the hundredth time that this is _not_ a date.

He picks at the linen of the tablecloth and then picks up his water glass, changing his mind at the last moment and putting it down again. He’s not thirsty, just worried. He’s not sure what exactly possessed him to invite Will _out_ to dinner. They haven’t been outside of Frederick’s house together since that first evening and then Frederick realises that he hasn’t been out by himself for even longer.

He’s relieved when Will walks in, shrugging out of his coat and smiling when he catches Frederick’s eye. Frederick is relieved because Will is going to be a nice distraction from his worried thoughts and racing memories of dinners past, or at least that’s what he tells himself.

Will sits and suddenly things are easy. They are just friends out for dinner at the nicest restaurant with a good vegetarian selection that Frederick could find. It almost feels normal. How many meals out has he had in his life? How mundane did a restaurant visit used to be for him?

They talk in low voices and taste each other’s dishes when they arrive. Will laughs at Frederick’s poor attempt at humour and it just feels so nice, so _normal_. Frederick could get used to this.

He’d spent the time he was waiting for Will with all of these horrible visions of what might happen. He imagined Will not showing up or showing up and being strange and different. He imagined Abel Gideon appearing and sitting in front of him and the image had made Frederick’s stomach turn. He’d imagined seeing Hannibal and of course Hannibal coming over and making some sort of comment about Frederick’s attractive _male_ companion. It had made him dread this evening, made him worry and not want to go through with it and yet now, with Will sitting across from him, with the light and happy conversation, Frederick doesn’t want anything else right now. Will has a magical way of making him feel alright.

They stay late at the restaurant, ordering bottles of water and catching the waiter rolling his eyes at them taking up his table. They talk and laugh and Frederick doesn’t worry at all, doesn’t think about how they might look to anyone else. None of it matters really.

It’s late by the time they leave and Will grabs Frederick’s arm as they walk down the street. Frederick isn’t even sure where they’re going, just knowing that he doesn’t want the evening to be over quite yet. “I got a cab,” he says, not meaning much by it other than simply stating a fact.

Will leans into his side, his body pressing against Frederick’s. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.” Will moves his arm, looping Frederick’s hand inside his elbow instead of the other way around and they walk along the street. Will leads the way and Frederick finds something very comfortable in not having to make a decision.

Frederick hesitates to touch the handle of the car door, let alone get inside it. Will must notice the look on his face because he shrugs and smiles. “Come on Frederick, no one is going to see you in my pile of junk this time of night.” Frederick shakes his head, embarrassed by the implication even though the thought had occurred to him.

Frederick fastens his seatbelt and watches Will get settled. “For how much you charge, I’d think you’d drive something a little better.” Will snorts and starts the car.

”You could get something nice,” says Frederick thoughtfully, sniffing the odd scent in the air. Well, Will _did_ say he had several dogs when he had been in one of his more open moods, didn’t he. Frederick glances around for signs of dog hairs that could transfer onto his clothes.

”That stuff isn’t important to me,” says Will absentmindedly, checking his blind spot and pulling out of his parking space. “I didn’t come tonight for the money anyway, you’re good company.” Frederick feels a rush of pleasure and his face flushes. He can’t help but smile but then immediately he’s reminding himself that Will is just telling him what he wants to hear.

”You probably say that to all of your, um, dates.”

”You’re the only one who paid me _just_ for conversation while also being the only one that I’d do other things for free for...um….” Will trails off, as though he’s just realised what he’s said. He glances sideways at Frederick. “Never mind.”

Frederick fidgets and looks out the car window. There’s not much of anything interesting to see at this time. He frowns, considering what to say, the questions he’s wanted to ask for some time now. “If you don’t like it, why do you do it?”

”I never said I _didn’t_ like it,” says Will and it’s the first time he hasn’t just changed the subject when Frederick has spoken about Will’s choice of career.

”But you don’t _like_ it either,” says Frederick frowning and looking at the profile of Will’s face. Will smiles and snorts softly.

”It depends,” says Will. “Not everyone is as handsome as you.” Frederick rolls his eyes and looks away. Will pats his knee. “Hey I’m serious, I meant it, I’d pick you up for fun, if either of us were that sort of person.”

”You’re not are you, I guess there are a lot of stereotypes,” says Frederick, as he watches the light at the junction ahead turn red. Will pulls to a stop and stares up at the traffic light. Frederick smiles, looking at Will’s profile, his hair curling at the ends and just a little messy. “You’re pretty special,” he says and Will glances over.

”You’re not even drunk Frederick, don’t tease me okay?” The words make Frederick sit up straight in his seat, sudden as though he’s been shocked. It’s as though everything suddenly becomes clear and he’s aware of the conversation they’ve been having. He bunches his hands in his lap, threading his fingers together.

”Sorry, I guess I just haven’t...is that what you want?” He holds his breath and different parts of him want Will to say completely different and opposing things. Will sighs and the light turns green. “I’m sorry,” says Frederick, before Will can respond. “I shouldn’t put you on the spot like that.”

”Guess we’re both too afraid to say it,” says Will and he speeds up to get through the next set of traffic lights before they change. Frederick leans against the car door, looking out the window as streets become more and more familiar the closer they get to his house.

He has been afraid. Cowardly in many things for a very long time. He doesn’t particularly want to become brave now. He doesn’t feel like this is the time to make a stand and yet there he is opening his stupid mouth and letting words tumble out. “I like spending time with you. You make me feel like before, well not...you make me _forget_ about before. It’s better than it was before because I feel different around you and I’m just, I’m confused about a lot of things.” Will is silent, driving and staring out of the windscreen of his car. Frederick looks over at him and he smiles when he looks at Will’s face. He’s nervous but Will has a way of making him feel calm just by being around him, making him think that things might all be okay. “I keep thinking it should be weird, what you do, who we both are and maybe you’re just that good to make me feel like this but I….” He trails off and bites his lip.

”Frederick….” says Will softly but Frederick can’t bear to hear whatever it is Will wants to say, not yet, not until he’s said everything.

”Will it make things weird between us? Would you hate me for it? If we...and I don’t even know if I want that. I haven’t _been_ with _anyone_ since...and well...it’s hard for me to admit it but I feel a little out of my depth here.” Frederick feels the car turn and he closes his eyes when he hears the crunch of driveway gravel under tyres. He opens them as the car comes to a stop and Will turns off the engine.

”Frederick,” says Will quietly and Frederick doesn’t want to turn his head to see the look of pity he just knows is on Will’s face. He wonders how many of Will’s clients have done something as stupid as developing feelings for him. He turns his face and Will is smiling at him. Frederick isn’t sure what to think but Will always knows exactly what to do and say.

Will unclips his seatbelt so he can lean in closer, pressing his lips against Frederick’s own. Before it had always been a warm and soft press of lips but now it feels like so much more, a hint at so much potential. Will realises some of it as his tongue licks against Frederick’s mouth and suddenly it’s not just a press of lips but _kissing_. Will’s hand is cupped behind Frederick’s neck, pulling him closer and Frederick can’t move, can’t breathe.

They part and Frederick gasps looking at Will’s face, mirroring his own hopeful expression. Neither speaks. Frederick doesn’t want to break the moment, doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. He’s not even sure what he would say if he could force his lips to form words.

It’s Will who finally speaks. He takes a deep breath, sighing softly. “I hate myself for saying this, but I should go.” Frederick clenches his hands into fists on his knees by reflex. “I want to stay,” says Will. He looks into Frederick’s eyes and smiles. Frederick forces his hands to relax and looks right back at Will. It’s far too easy to get lost staring at him like this. “I...I think things are going to change.” Will licks his lips.

”Change how?” asks Frederick, reaching to unfasten his seatbelt. He wants to move closer but Will shifts and Frederick wonders if Will might think he’s trying to leave. He settles back into his seat.

”I have a confession,” Will says, taking a deep breath. “I stopped charging you three weeks ago. I was waiting for you to notice.” The edges of his mouth curl up and he shakes his head. “As much as I miss the regular pay, it didn’t feel right,” he whispers. “So now when I say I want to take this slow, you won’t think I’m just getting more easy money out of you.”

Frederick opens his mouth, then closes it and opens it again. Thoughts racing he knows he should say something, that he _wants_ to say something but every time words start to form a conflicting thought derails him.

Will cups his cheek and he smiles that wide and open smile of his and suddenly Frederick doesn’t care if this is an act, realises that logically it can’t be. He feels like the only person in the world right now, he feels special in all of the right ways rather than the wrong ones he’s been feeling for the past year.

When Will finally pulls back and glances between the house and Frederick, he wonders if he should invite Will inside, insist that he stay. He could say it’s for coffee or a nightcap, the old cliché but he’s nervous about it too, imagining what he’d do if Will said yes.

”I should go,” says Will as he winces and shakes his head. Frederick bites his lip. He’s not sure if he’s relieved or not but he forces a smile onto his face.

”I’ll...is it okay if I come over next week?” asks Will shyly. Frederick wants to laugh as Will’s demeanor shifts and he’s suddenly a different creature to the confident easygoing Will of their “dates” up until now. Will has been coming over _every_ week and suddenly he needs to ask.

”Of course,” Frederick chokes out, his voice sounding scratchy as it catches in his throat. “I mean, are you _serious_?” He stares at Will and Will’s face breaks into a grin. He laughs and Frederick frowns.

Will gets his laughter under control and grabs hold of Frederick’s hand, squeezing his fingers. “I’m sorry, I’m deadly serious,” he says. He leans forward and presses his lips against Frederick’s again. Before Frederick can close his eyes and fall into another proper kiss, Will is pulling away from him. “Goodnight Frederick, I’ll see you next week.”

”I don’t want to leave,” says Frederick sheepishly. “Or should that be that I don’t want you to leave?” He puts his hand on the door handle and shifts forward in his seat.

”How do you think I feel,” says Will with a shrug. “Goodnight Frederick.”

Frederick gets out of the car and walks towards his front door. He looks over his shoulder every few steps, seeing Will sitting there, watching him. He opens the door and deactivates the alarm and he stands in the doorway, looking out. He and Will look at each other for a long time until Frederick raises his hand and waves. He hears the sound of Will’s engine start and he watches Will’s car turn out of his drive.

*********

Frederick’s week moves frustratingly slowly. Things in work that might normally interest him just annoy him. He checks his watch and sees how slowly the days are going by. The weekend can’t come soon enough, even though the anticipation brings it’s own worries.

He forces himself to focus on his work, perhaps in an attempt to make the passage of time not feel as oppressive as it does. He gets caught up on mountains of paperwork and even makes some small talk with a few of the staff members. They seem a bit surprised at his instigating conversations. He supposes he has been a bit withdrawn at work lately.

By the time 5pm comes around on Friday, Frederick feels as though he's been at work for multiple weeks rather than just one. He drives home and on the way immediately starts to fret about his chosen plans. He's thought through every option this week; whether to cook or order in, what to wear, how he should act around Will. He's thought about how long Will might want to _wait_. Frederick hasn't been with anyone in a long time, he hasn't been with a man since some foolish drunken exploits back in college. That was long enough ago that to think of it just makes him feel old.

Frederick showers and changes when he gets home and he frets over the outfit he's had laid out since two days prior. Should he choose something more formal? Even more casual? He stares at the sports jacket and thinks about last minute changes but in the end he dresses and checks his hair and stands up straight in front of the mirror.

He feeds the cat and starts into the recipe for vegetarian ravioli he's had picked out since the day after he last saw Will. Frederick doesn't want to admit he's nervous, and even if he did it's not because this is a _date_. He's been on dates before, even been on what some might call a date with _Will_. This is the first time he has with Will that has been called a date _properly_ , by both of them, jokes they’ve made before notwithstanding.

Frederick can't help but check the clock every few minutes. He had thought the time would go slowly but if anything it's going too quickly and he frets about getting dinner prepared on time. He picks out a bottle of wine, thinking it would be polite to offer but then he puts it back again. Will would understand, he thinks.

The cat wanders into the kitchen and stands watching him, her tail sweeping back and forth. "What are you looking at?" asks Frederick with a sigh. He hastily cleans off the kitchen counter and puts his dish of raviolis into the fridge, ready to be cooked later. He looks up at the clock again. His stomach feels tight as he sees how close the minute hand has swept towards twelve.

The house is silent, so quiet that Frederick hears the sound of the car in the driveway. His breath catches and he has to stop himself from rushing to the door. He forces himself to wait until Will rings the doorbell.

Frederick smiles when he opens the door, both in relief and because he simply can't control it. Seeing Will makes him feel good. Will smiles back and walks inside. Will used to simply walk inside, with a polite greeting before stooping to greet the cat who always comes running when Will arrives. This time Will's arm goes around Frederick's waist and he leans close and pecks him on the lips. It's familiar even though it is the first time Will has ever greeted him in that way. Frederick looks down in embarrassment after their kiss ends.

"It's great to see you," Frederick says and Will grabs his hand. Frederick looks up at him.

"You too," says Will softly and while this might be very different, some things don't change. Will smiles and that wide and open boyish smile makes Frederick feel relaxed and happy, as it always manages to do.

Frederick brings Will to the kitchen and pours them water. Will leans against the counter and Frederick describes the dinner he's been preparing. Will sounds enthusiastic about trying it and Frederick can't help but blush.

Things should be different, so very different, but it's easy enough for them to fall back into familiarity. They talk about usual things, what has happened that week, how Frederick's work is going. Frederick smiles as Will casually touches his arm. He's done it so many times before and yet now it's as though it _means_ something different now. It's something special between them.

Frederick feels a bit silly about that kind of thing. He's aware that their actual interactions haven't changed _that_ much and that it's the context that has shifted. He can't help it though, every little touch or every time Will smiles or laughs at something he says he feels so special. Things are different now that he’s opened himself up to possibilities that he’d quashed before. It makes Frederick feel as though he could do anything and perhaps maybe he could. They sit with their drinks and talk. Will's hand casually touches Frederick's knee and for the first time in too long, Frederick feels confident enough to touch him back without overthinking it. They sit with their hands resting on each other's bodies, Will's hand on Frederick’s knee and Frederick's arm finding it's way into Will's other hand. Their fingers end up threaded together and Frederick remembers how good casual contact with another human being could feel. It's been far too long.

The beginnings of hunger eventually bring them both to the kitchen where Frederick boils water and tips in his carefully made raviolis. Will seems impressed at the handmade pasta and Frederick hides his embarrassment at the praise by hunching over the pot to watch them closely. They chat and laugh as Frederick drains the pasta and tips the pre made sauce in on top. He slips the jar into the trash as quickly as possible. Will laughs and Frederick doesn’t even try to make an excuse for his store bought marinara. It's all so normal, so natural. Frederick serves them plates of pasta and they sit in the dining room . They sit at right angles, in reach of each other rather than across and Will's hand finds his each time they talk about something new. They talk and Frederick feels silly for worrying that this change might change _them_ , that it might have ruined whatever this is that they have together.

*********

It's late in the evening when Frederick notes a shift in Will’s demeanor. They sit on the sofa chatting in their usual manner. Will’s expression suddenly serious as he grabs Frederick's hand. Moments prior, Will had been complimenting Frederick's pasta while subtly mocking his use of sauce from a jar. The shift is sudden, startling Frederick, and the thoughts and worries that he has been pushing to the back of his mind all come flooding back. "What is it?" Frederick asks and Will winces at his tone.

"I can't come next week, I, I know we have our little routine but next Friday isn't going to work for me," Will says. He squeezes Frederick's hand in reassurance. Frederick's mind is immediately filled with all of the worst possible thoughts. He's done something to mess this up, _already_ and Will has changed his mind. Maybe it _was_ that damn jar of sauce after all? He really does mess everything up…. But then Will smiles at him. "Just work stuff, someone very insistent on a specific time." Frederick pulls his hand away from Will's and frowns.

Of course he knows what Will's job is, knows he sees other people. He just never really thought of himself in the context of being just another client. He's not any more though, he has to remind himself of that fact. "How many regulars do you have?" asks Frederick quietly. He has to struggle to keep his voice even, to not reveal the jealousy he feels when he thinks about Will sitting like this with someone else, of doing _other_ things with someone else. Will smiles and grabs Frederick's hand back, cupping his other hand over the top of it.

"Four, which included you," says Will. "I don't do one off appointments often, so now I‘ve been looking for a replacement regular."

"You saw _me_ ," says Frederick, his voice sounding harsher and more abrupt than he meant it to sound. Will shakes his head.

"Do you really not remember what you wrote in that first message?" asks Will. Frederick shakes his head and Will smiles at him. His face gets a tender expression as he tilts his head, lifting his hand to touch Frederick's cheek. "Well I had a good feeling about you before I even met you, you seemed like you needed a friend and anyway, I had an opening," Will says. Frederick flushes and wishes he could read that email while at the same time knowing he'd hate to see whatever the Frederick of that long ago could have said at such a low point.

”I could keep paying you,” says Frederick quietly. He looks sideways at Will. “I can afford it, just, to help you out.”

"Look Frederick, as much as being a kept man might have it’s appeal, I don’t want to take advantage of you. I have three regulars, none of whom you need to worry about," says Will. He squeezes Frederick's hand. "It's not like that with them, they know exactly what they're getting, it's just work. I already have a potential number four lined up and it’ll be the same with him."

"But this guy...." says Frederick defensively. He realises how pathetic and jealous he must sound. Then again, he's never been in this position before. He starts to think about how silly this all is, how could he ever have thought of dating someone in Will's line of work?

Will squeezes his hand again and he looks...sad perhaps. He looks away and Frederick sees the empty look Will has as he stares across the room. "This is hard for me Frederick," says Will. "This is just what I do, it's not...it's just a tiny bit of me, not even _me_ , it's just a job okay?" He turns back and he looks at Frederick, face hopeful. He bites his lip and sighs. "I'm pretty damn good at not having feelings for clients, you're the exception okay?" Frederick wants to believe him more than anything but in that moment his heart and his head war at each other.

Frederick forces a smile and shyly leans forward, pressing his lips to Will's. "I trust you," says Frederick and Will seems to realise how big those words are for Frederick because he smiles and it's one of his genuine ones. Frederick's face flushes in pride knowing that he's the cause of that smile.

"So tell me about your clients then, I trust you, can you trust me?" It's a test, petty perhaps, and Frederick doesn't want to hurt Will but he has to know. Will purses his lips and shakes his head.

"Nothing to tell, two are older gentleman with happy wives and families that need a release they don’t get at home. The other just likes having certain itches scratched behind closed doors. He’s a public figure, I have to be discreet. The fourth will probably be someone similar, based on who has asked to see me. The potential number four has actually been asking for me for weeks, he seems pretty interested...more than I am in him Frederick.” Will sighs. “I...I don't feel comfortable telling you more than that, it wouldn't be professional."

"No women? And um...they like to...uh...." Frederick can feel his face go hot at the thought. He doesn't want to imagine but he can't exactly help it.

"Have sex with men, yes," says Will. He rolls his eyes. "It's just sex Frederick, it's different with you and it’s not even sex with one of them, he just likes being tied up."

Frederick’s eyes go wide at the thought of Will tying someone up. The image makes his face feel hot. "We haven't...." Frederick starts but Will leans close and kisses him, shutting him up.

Will's hand cups Frederick's face and he presses against him and the thoughts of Will with those other men is the furthest thing from Frederick's mind.

The nerves start up again as Will pushes him down and they're suddenly making out like teenagers, hands roaming and lips pressed tight. Will's tongue is in Frederick's mouth and then he's kissing back and he wants to laugh at the giddy joy he feels but he's too turned on.

He presses his hips up against Will's body and it feels good, to be turned on with another person. Will presses his hips back against Frederick's and Frederick shifts his leg outward, off the edge of the sofa so they can press even closer together.

Will doesn't press him down, he holds his weight up on his arms as he leans over Frederick. For a minute Frederick wants Will to press him down, to feel his body tight and snug against his own but then he worries how he might react and he doesn't want to ruin this, he wants it to go on forever.

Will grunts as he pulls his lips free, propping himself on his arms and knees over Frederick, breathing hard. Frederick flops his head back against the cushions and looks up at Will. He looks away as Will's heated look makes him feel strange and nervous.

"Haven't done that in too long," says Will softly. Frederick flushes even harder and he's sure Will must see how red his face has gotten.

"I find that hard to believe," says Frederick and Will's smile drops from his face.

"How many times do I have to tell you Frederick, things are different with you."

"I'm sorry," says Frederick and he reaches his hand up to turn Will's chin down. He reaches up, neck craning and pecks Will's lips. "I've got to stop being so...." he trails off.

"It's okay," says Will tenderly and he leans down and kisses him again. He shifts his hips against Frederick's andhis reawakening erection is throwing all of his worries and thoughts to the back of his mind once again.

They grind against one another and Frederick can't remember feeling like this since he was so much younger, more carefree. It's thrilling and exciting in a way that is so much more than just getting off as he's used to. Will's lips against his own, moving down to kiss his neck and it sends a chill down his spine. He jerks his hips upwards, bumping against Will's body and Will chuckles into his neck.

"Eager," whispers Will and he pulls himself up on his arms, looking down at Frederick's face. "You look good like this."

"What do you mean?" asks Frederick, suddenly self conscious. He wants to reach up and check his hair but then he remembers that he's lying under Will on the couch. Of _course_ his hair is messed up. He doesn't want to think about how wrinkled his clothes must be.

Frederick takes a deep breath and looks up at Will. He watches Will's adam's apple as he swallows, looks at where Will's neck disappears inside his shirt. His fingers itch to undo that top button, and the next until he can see a little more of Will's skin. He imagines what lies beneath must be beautiful.

He's shy about it, but he takes a deep breath and pushes up against Will, forcing Will back so they can sit upright. "Is it okay if I...." asks Frederick cautiously, moving his hand in a gesture that doesn't really mean anything in and of itself. He flushes then, looking away as he slips his jacket off, folding it and putting it carefully across the arm of the couch. When he turns back, Will is looking at him silently.

Will doesn’t say anything at all, doesn’t answer the unspoken question. Instead, he reaches forward, fingers nimble as they loosen Frederick's tie, slipping if off. He carefully folds it and places it on the coffee table. Frederick sits frozen until Will's fingers reach for his shirt buttons. He catches Will's hand. He can't exactly explain it. Will _knows_ he has scars and yet the thought of Will seeing them just makes his stomach turn, especially when he knows how perfect Will himself must be underneath his shirt.

Will smiles and instead reaches for his own shirt, undoing buttons one by one. "It's okay," Will whispers as Frederick reaches his hands up to take over.

Will's skin is soft and for a moment Frederick wonders if he removes his body hair for his client's benefit or for his own. Frederick forces the thought away as he trails fingers down Will's chest before sliding the fabric apart and off Will's shoulders. Will looks at him from under his eyelashes and the look he is giving Frederick right now is so sexual that it makes Frederick's breath catch in his throat.

"May I?" whispers Will and he reaches instead for Frederick's crotch, a hand cupping across the tented front of his pants. Will hums low and kisses Frederick's neck. He pulls back and quickly shrugs the shirt off and he's perfect. Frederick can't look away and suddenly he doesn't want to do this.

He breathes hard, trying to stay calm. Will frowns. "Are you okay Frederick? We can stop." Will sits back, opening the space between them. Will suddenly looks so vulnerable, sitting there with no shirt on and Frederick feels suddenly incredibly guilty for being the reason.

"I'm sorry, you're just so...perfect." Will bites his lip.

"I'm really not," says Will. He grabs Frederick's hand and presses his fingers against his side. "See right here? Scar." Frederick's fingers feel the raised mark along Will's ribs. "And here?" He moves Frederick's fingers down to his side, twisting to Frederick can see more towards his back. "More, I even have bruises in places and that’s only what you can see. It's not the same as...I know it's not but it's me and you're you. We're different and not all scars are _visible_." He smiles then holding Frederick's hand. "I just want to see you."

Frederick's heart pounds and he doesn't want Will to see him, doesn't want anyone to see him. "I haven't shown anyone since," says Frederick. "Only doctors you know? It's ugly."

Will silently reaches again, moving so slowly and carefully as though afraid he'll startle Frederick. He starts to unbutton Frederick's shirt. He gets two buttons down before Frederick’s hands are stopping him.

”I’m sorry,” Frederick whispers. He couldn’t even stop his hands from covering Will’s and pushing them away if he wanted to. “Just, a little too fast for me.” He winces at his own word choice. He’s not sure if or when would ever be slow enough.

Will leans down to look up at Frederick’s face, forcing Frederick to raise his head and really look at Will’s face. “It’s okay Frederick,” he says. “I can wait.”

Frederick knows that, knows that Will _would_ wait for him, wouldn’t he. Frederick could make him wait forever but then, he’d grow bored eventually. Frederick knows he’s not _that_ special. He looks up and Will is looking at him. He looks so earnest and handsome and it’s _Will_. In such a short time he’s become the only person Frederick can trust. Frederick doesn’t _want_ to wait but waiting is surely easier than confronting the terror of taking this chance.

”No,” says Frederick and takes a deep breath. “I’m done waiting, I want...this.” His heart is pounding but the words spill out easily enough. Will smiles softly and reaches his hands out, fingers finding the button on Frederick’s shirt where he left off.

Will opens Frederick's shirt buttons one by one. He spreads the shirt open, running his fingers across the hair on Frederick's chest. Will smiles and looks up at Frederick's face. Frederick feels frightened even though he wonders if he really should. He worries about Will judging him or thinking badly of him. When Will was being paid he would never have felt this way and for a moment Frederick hates that Will has changed the stakes of what they share.

Will’s fingers stroke against his chest and strangely enough Will doesn't look to the scar first, the giant line and the smaller openings from the subsequent surgeries. Will seems rather enamoured with his chest hair instead and it breaks the tension. Frederick laughs. "Thing for chest hair?" he asks and Will flushes a little.

"Maybe," he says quietly, running fingers down Frederick's chest and reaching the scar. He runs his fingers across and looks up at Frederick's face. "It's part of you, and I like _you_ ," he says. He smiles and leans across, pressing a kiss to Frederick's cheek.

Frederick leans back onto the sofa. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. It feels like a relief. "I...do you want to move this upstairs?" he asks. He doesn't open his eyes, just waits for Will to answer.

"We could move slowly," says Will. "There's no hurry is there?" Frederick looks over and Will smiles.

"Is that your way of saying that you just want to cuddle?" asks Frederick in what he hopes is a lighthearted manner. Will smirks at him.

"I didn't say that now did I Doctor Chilton," says Will in a low voice. He leans close, looking at Frederick with a dark look in his eyes. "How about you show me the rest?" His fingers find Frederick's belt and slip the leather free quickly, too quickly. Frederick sits motionless, just watching as Will quickly opens his flies, pushing fabric out of the way to find Frederick's dick. The corners of Will's mouth turn up and he looks up from Frederick's lap. "Just tell me if you need me to stop okay?" he says softly and Frederick nods, transfixed as Will leans down.

Will is good at this, and wouldn’t he be? Frederick doesn’t know where to put his hands, ending up with one across the back of the sofa and one clutching at the fabric of a cushion.

Will makes noises in his throat and Frederick can’t even tell exactly what he’s doing with his tongue and his hands but it feels so _good_. It’s been far too long since he’s experienced any of the sensations he feels right now. Will’s mouth on him makes him feel too much. He can’t quite pinpoint exactly what Will is doing but he knows that it feels amazing.

Will makes a moaning noise in his throat and Frederick glances down, catching his eye. He has to look away, tilting his head back against the cushions. He’s going to come instantly if he looks into Will’s eyes for one moment longer.

He thinks that he should be more focused on a hundred other things; the fact that Will is a man or that it’s _Will_ specifically. Perhaps he should be thinking about what this means for his sexuality or even what it means for this to be his first experience since the _incident_. Perhaps again he should be more aware of the fact that Will can see his torso and it’s grouping of scars and he should perhaps even be embarrassed by them, by what they mean.

It’s freeing and a relief to be able to let go, for his thoughts to slip away and for Will’s fingers to clutch against his thigh when Frederick comes. He can barely move, just sitting as Will’s lips and tongue work him through his orgasm and past it to the point of discomfort. He shifts then, sitting up straighter, moving so that Will can sit back and let his dick slip out of his mouth.

”Fuck,” whispers Frederick blinking slowly as he looks at Will’s face. Will smiles with reddened lips and he looks pleased with himself. Will’s tongue swipes along his lips and Frederick realises that he must have swallowed it down. “Shit,” Frederick says, for lack of anything better to say.

”So I guess that means I’ve found the trick to making you speechless.” Will grins and leans towards him, about to kiss him before he pulls back. He pauses and bites his lip, his eyes slipping to the side. Frederick leans forward to close the gap instead and kisses Will, softly. He licks against Will’s mouth and tastes himself in the other man’s mouth.

They part and look at each other, they’re so close they’re breathing each other’s air and it’s too warm, too close. “Keep forgetting you’re not a client,” whispers Will. “Guess I have to pinch myself.” He smiles shyly. “But I don’t want to wake up.” He presses back against Frederick, pressing his head back into the cushions, running his hands into the space between Frederick’s shirt and his side. It tickles a little as Will’s fingers stroke his skin.

Will breaks their kiss, moving to rest his forehead against Frederick’s shoulder. Frederick’s mind feels fuzzy, the room feels too warm. He’s aware of air against his stomach, against scar tissue and his fingers unconsciously move to his shirt, pulling the fabric together. He frowns, trying to think of what he should do, of what the correct thing should _be_. “I um...I should reciprocate?” he asks, not really sure of the protocol. Will chuckles and pats Frederick’s thigh.

”I’d actually really like that if...if you’re okay?” Will sits up and he has such a look of concern on his face. It’s not fake though, it’s not like the looks Frederick got far too accustomed to before. This feels as though Will genuinely worries that he’s pushed too far, that Frederick’s comfort matters.

Frederick reaches for Will’s crotch and presses his hand against the bulge there. He’s not that hard but Frederick thinks that will change very shortly. His hands go to his own pants, quickly tucking himself back into his clothes, fastening his flies. Will sits back looking at him as Frederick hunches forward. Frederick looks sideways at Will. He takes a deep breath and slides towards the edge of the sofa, slipping onto his knees.

Will watches him but is silent as Frederick positions himself into the space between Will’s knees. It feels right to move this way, to not care about wrinkling his trousers so that he can focus on what he plans to do.

Will is different, it’s unfamiliar to be faced with his hardening cock as Frederick opens his flies and takes it out. He holds his breath as he runs his fingers along it. It’s strange for him to be doing this, as though it should be someone else, someone who didn’t have expectations on their behaviour the way Frederick does.

He thinks he should say something in advance by way of apology. He should explain to Will that he’s not touched another man’s dick since college, that he’s never had one in his mouth before, that this is going to be terrible and that he’s _sorry_. He suddenly feels so nervous. What if he’s so terrible that Will gets up and leaves, what if Will never wants to see him again but then Will’s hand is on his cheek and Will smiles at him and Frederick takes a deep and fortifying breath. He can do this.

The skin tastes different here, smells different but then of course it would. The thought of the women he’s gone down on doesn’t even occur to him. This is an entirely new and unique experience. He swipes his tongue along the shaft of Will’s dick and sees it twitch. He reaches out fingers and carefully holds it as he licks again. Will’s skin is so smooth and soft, just like his own dick he supposes but then he’s never been this close and personal with his own before. Will breathes out heavily. “Tease,” he says softly but when Frederick looks up he’s smiling at him.

Will has a dark look in his eyes that doesn’t match with the smile. It takes a moment for Frederick to recognise the lust for what it is.

The sudden knowledge that Will wants _him_ sends a shiver up his spine and the little knot of self consciousness is forgotten. Suddenly Frederick feels good, really good, and he slips the head of Will’s cock into his mouth and gives it an experimental suck.

There’s a hint of bitterness as he gets a taste of precome. He licks around the head of Will’s dick and becomes very aware of just how much space his teeth take up in his mouth. He wants to be good at this, he _has_ to be good at this. Will groans as Frederick runs his tongue across the top of the glans, chasing the small leak of liquid.

Will runs his fingers through Frederick’s hair, softly, not pushing against his head. For a brief moment Frederick wonders how it would feel for Will to push him down, to make him take the cock deeper into his mouth. He shouldn’t want any of this, shouldn’t be thrilled by the thought of Will _taking_ his pleasure.

Frederick slips Will’s dick deeper into his mouth, sliding along his tongue, pressing down on the back. He gags, sudden and he jerks back, trying to catch his breath and force down the sudden unpleasant feeling. Frederick looks up and Will smiles reassuringly at him. “You’re doing so good.” Will’s voice is barely above a whisper but it’s his old trick of being, of doing, of saying exactly what Frederick needs to hear. Frederick strokes Will’s erection with gentle fingers and returns to alternating licking and sucking as he tries to get used to this experience.

Will groans softly and from the corner of his eye, Frederick sees his fingers grip tightly into the fabric of the couch. “I’m close.” Frederick isn’t sure if he imagined Will’s words or not but he feels the change in Will’s dick and debates whether to take the pulsing organ from his mouth or take it deeper.

Will’s come is a new sensation of taste and Frederick holds it in his mouth as more gushes out. It’s mere seconds but it feels longer and Will’s thigh’s relax and his hips shift. Frederick rocks back squinting his eyes as he swallows. He looks up and something about the way Will is looking at him makes him suddenly self conscious. He pulls the front of his shirt closed, wrapping his arms across his stomach.

The look on Will’s face is what Frederick might call fondness but he’s not too sure how much of his relaxed expression is the aftermath of an orgasm. Will pats the sofa next to him and holds a hand out. Frederick hesitates but he gets slowly to his feet and realises how sore his back is from kneeling. He stretches and then, realising that his shirt has flapped open again, hastily starts to button it.

”Hey it’s okay.” Frederick looks at Will. Will smiles. “That was great,” Will says and holds out his hand again. Frederick ignores the hand, buttoning up his shirt and then turning to sit beside Will. The dirty thrill of what’s just happened has faded and now he just feels self conscious, totally aware of how what he just did might be perceived. The memory of moments ago makes his face feel hot.

Will slips his hand into Frederick’s, threading their fingers together and there’s something familiar about the motion even if it still feels new and strange. Will leans his head against Frederick’s shoulder and it feels nice, it feels like a step in the right direction. Frederick turns his head to rub against the top of Will’s head, smelling his shampoo and Will’s own scent and frowns a little when those annoying thoughts creep up from the back of his mind. He doesn’t want to worry about what people might say or think but he can’t help it.

”I can feel you over thinking things,” says Will with a sigh.

”Sorry.”

”It’s okay.” Will squeezes his hand briefly. “It’s new, different, it’ll be okay.”

Frederick smiles. It’s nice to have someone reassure him like this, for it not to feel so much like empty words but a real promise.

*********

Frederick feels happy all week though the thought of a weekend without Will is hard to bear. The weekend itself isn’t so bad but his life feels so empty without Will’s visits. He watches bad movies and pets the cat and waits for Monday. Perhaps it should worry him how dependent on seeing Will his mood has gotten.

Each day that passes is a day closer to seeing Will again and that thought makes the world feel lighter. Part of him wants to share this with people, to tell them that he’s _seeing_ someone, that it’s special. But it’s a nice secret, personal and private, something just for him and Will.

If he stopped to think about it, he might be sad about how long it's been since he was actually dating someone, if what is happening with Will could be classified as dating in the classic sense of the term. He and Will see each other once a week and he's already wondering if he can see him more often than that. He may be feeling happy but the week still moves far too slowly for his taste and over a week without Will feels far too long.

He looks at the calendar and knowing that he won't see Will _this_ Friday makes him feel frustrated, angry perhaps. He wants Will to himself. He thinks that must be what this feeling is anyway. Will's occupation taking him away from Frederick is just not fair. But when had anything really ever been _fair_ for Frederick Chilton?

He's startled out of studying a requisition order by the buzzing of his phone and he picks it up to see the text message from Will. Will has never texted him before, he always phones. It's always a brief call to confirm the time and date of their "appointment". Frederick quickly opens the message and can't help but smile at the informality of it. _"Hey you. Can I come over tonight? 7?"_ It seems right that Will should text like this and the word _boyfriend_ enters Frederick's mind before he forces it back. He's not going to become some mindless simpering fool just because he likes Will. He bites his lip and debates waiting to answer. He's sure they say that, you're supposed to wait, to not seem desperate but the last thing he wants to do is play some game. In either case, Frederick is too desperate to answer, to say yes.

The phone buzzes moments after the message is sent with a reply. _"Great, see you then."_ Frederick smiles widely and he's alone in the room, it's not even a smile for someone else's benefit, to make someone else feel comfortable after _they_ brought up something disagreeable. It feels nice and Frederick doesn't even mind getting back to work, examining the screwed up mind of some other patient. It's just work after all.

Somehow Frederick manages to not focus solely on seeing Will this evening. It means his workday goes by quicker than expected and then he's looking at the clock and realising it's long past five. He hastily closes his files and grabs his things. He doesn't want to keep Will waiting.

Will is waiting though, leaning against the hood of his car when Frederick pulls up to his house. Will smiles at him and Frederick feels light and happy. He can’t remember the last time someone looked that happy to see him. He doesn't even mind when Will greets him with a peck on the lips. Frederick doesn't care if his neighbours see. Will is his after all.

"It's nice to see you, especially on a Monday," says Frederick as he unlocks the front door to let them both inside. The cat bypasses Frederick to greet Will and Frederick just rolls his eyes. Typical.

"Well I guess, I wanted to see you and I didn’t want to wait another whole week....didn’t get to see you over the weekend," says Will, standing up from his position crouched over the cat. "Life’s too short for all those bullshit games." Frederick turns his back but smiles to himself as he walks towards the kitchen.

"I don't have anything in for dinner," says Frederick and he reaches for the box of takeout menus on the counter. Will leans against the kitchen island, watching Frederick thumb through the options.

"I'm easy," says Will, stretching. "I'll have whatever you're having."

Frederick plucks out the menu for an Italian place that just started doing deliveries. He's been meaning to try them for a while and this seems like as good an opportunity as any. "How was your weekend?" asks Frederick absently and Will actually answers.

"Tiring, just not the best but now that I'm here, it's looking up." Will shrugs and smiles again and Frederick thinks he'd probably die happy if he only knew for certain he was the cause of one of those wonderful smiles.

"Work hasn't been too bad for me this week," says Frederick, picking at the edge of the paper menu in his hands. "Sorry to hear your weekend hasn't been great." Frederick is aware that Will doesn't want to talk about his line of work, about what he does and who his other clients are but something in this conversation feels so normal and open. Will shrugs again.

"Well...I should.” Will pauses and frowns, shaking his head. “Yeah never mind, I'm here now. So what's for dinner?" And there's that shift in Will's demeanor when he changes the subject and Frederick has become more and more aware of just how he manages to do that. He let's it slide, they're all entitled to a little distraction now and then.

"Italian?" Frederick offers the menu to Will.

They're in agreement about the meal at least and they chat about innocuous topics while waiting for it to arrive. Frederick points out that he's been eating an awful lot of Italian food since he went vegetarian and Will just laughs and shrugs.

It's so natural, they almost feel like a regular couple and Frederick suddenly feels angry at himself for thinking otherwise at all. Whatever he and Will are, whatever this is becoming feels right. He needs to stop himself trying to taint it in his own mind.

After dinner, they end up on the couch and the memory of their last time on this couch is in the back of Frederick's mind, especially when Will leans close and kisses him. They end up lying on the sofa, Will on top as they kiss and Frederick doesn't mind that it doesn't seem to be progressing beyond some light petting.

They end up quietly cuddled together and Will’s weight on him actually feels nice in a comforting sort of way. “You coming over is a pleasant surprise,” says Frederick into Will’s neck and he feels Will’s slight chuckle as much as he feels it.

”I kept thinking I needed an excuse to see you.” Will pushes himself up to look down at Frederick properly. “I missed you and I just, I needed to be here, helps make me feel like a person.”

”You can be here as much as you want.” Frederick doesn’t even think about how pathetic that might make him sound. Will just looks sad and shakes his head.

”Work and real life keeps me away from you,” he says and the words explain it all. Frederick’s face must have given him away because Will reaches down to kiss Frederick’s cheek. “Hey now, you are my real life, you just...time with you is so nice, it’s like I’m dreaming. Don’t make me wake up Frederick.” He smiles softly and he has that look of pure fondness on his face, the one that makes Frederick feel so good, so special.

”I guess that works.” Frederick smiles and his hands find Will’s butt, squeezing one cheek. Will laughs.

”Slow, remember?” Will kisses Frederick and he’s pressing down on top of him again. It feels _safe_ like this and Frederick can’t care about anything but how happy that sense of safety makes him feel.

*********

It’s thrilling how quickly seeing Will becomes Frederick’s everyday reality. He sees Will on various weeknights after work. Will even drops over on Fridays again and Frederick is almost afraid to ask him what changed. He doesn’t want Will to change his schedule back to the way it was before. Seeing Will so often makes the passage of time a little easier to bear.

Frederick catches up on a lot of work and plenty of reading. He makes time to read the backlog of journals he’s missed out on during what he can only describe as his “slump”. It’s embarrassing now to think that he let himself go so far off track over _anything_ , even if it was an attack so vicious.

There is this new kind of tension to his and Will’s meetings though. Previously Frederick had never worried what Will might think of him, never worried that he was going to screw things up. Knowing that someone is being paid to spend time with you tends to do that. But the stakes seem so much higher now and Frederick has to force himself not to dwell on every little moment between them.

Things at least seem to be progressing, despite his nervousness about how everything is moving on. He thinks he may be getting the hang of blowjobs though he’s certain he can’t possibly manage to make Will feel as good as Will makes him feel. The thought of moving further, brought up every time Will’s fingers brush a little too far here and there, every time Will says something about how much he _wants_ Frederick makes him feel some mixture of terrified and thrilled.

Frederick thinks Will would let him go on top, at least the first time and yet something about the way Will’s fingers press his shoulders and his weight feels on top of Frederick seems to make all of his fantasies about the occasion place their roles the other way around.

Frederick knows they’ll have to _talk_ about these things at some point. Will must know because he’s the one who instigates any kind of conversations about their relationship. Calling it that makes Frederick smile.

”I’ve never stayed over,” says Will and it’s a simple statement but to Frederick it feels like an accusation. He can’t help but fidget even though he should be comfortable in their usual spot on the couch in his home. It’s just another weeknight and these evenings together have become so much a part of Frederick’s life that he doesn’t want to think about how it was before.

”I’ve never been to your place,” he responds sounding more defensive than he intended. Will grabs his hand.

”Touche.”

”Do you want to?” asks Frederick and he turns to look at Will. Will looks good, he always does and tonight he’s showed up dressed casually and with enough stubble across his jaw that it’s clear he hasn’t bothered to shave in several days. Will smiles at him and squeezes Frederick’s hand in what has become something that never fails to ground him.

”I’d like to see your place _and_ I’d like you to stay over here.”

”My place smells like dog,” says Will quietly and Frederick has to look at him closely to see the give away of the small smile forming at the corners of his mouth.

Frederick sighs and can’t help but think of how wrong things will go in the future, how he’ll be too scared and awkward to have sex with Will, how it will be terrible, how Will is going to realise what a useless person Frederick is.

”Hey, I was just kidding,” says Will, his face suddenly changing into that look of concern. That look makes Frederick feel good, that Will cares _that_ much about him. On the other hand, it also makes Frederick worry that every time he is weak and frustrating and stupid like this, it’s another reason for Will to come to his senses over what is going on between them.

Will leans close and kisses Frederick and this part is familiar. Frederick tries to shut off his mind and just enjoy kissing Will but he’s not very successful in that endeavour. They pause to catch their breath and Will smiles at him again.

”Are things moving too quickly for you?” asks Will and Frederick wants to say both yes and no all at once.

”I don’t want them to slow down,” says Frederick and it’s the only truthful thing he thinks he could say. “This is difficult for me.”

”Relationship with a man?” asks Will, slipping his other hand over the top of where he’s been holding onto Frederick’s hand firmly. “Or just a relationship since….”

Frederick winces. Will doesn’t need to say more, his past always seems to hang over him, over them. “The whole…” Frederick gestures awkwardly with his free hand in what he hopes indicates he means _them_ , _together_.. “That part is _different_ , it’s more that I don’t know if I’ve ever had _any_ relationship like this.”

Will frowns. “What do you mean?”

Frederick takes a deep breath. He’s used to lying and covering up, to telling half truths and yet now he wants to take the weight from off his chest. “It’s not about what everyone else thinks for once. I mean, maybe it should be but...it’s not. Who cares what my colleagues think? Who cares what stupid Lecter does next, this isn’t something he can take away from me.”

Will frowns and bites his lip. “Lecter is….”

”The one who was awarded the first night we met and I’m sorry to say, someone I’ve ranted about to you on a few occasions. How funny that him taking my award for my work is what brought you into my life.” Frederick laughs half heartedly. He looks at Will and tilts his head at Will’s expression. “Maybe I should be thankful, if I’d won that award I wouldn’t have had any trouble finding a date and well...I wouldn’t have met you.” Will smiles then but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

”I don’t like thinking that meeting you was so unlikely. You’re, we’re, perhaps a bit unlikely.” Will smiles. “Are you still mad? About the award?”

Frederick shrugs but then pauses to really think about it. He turns to look at the darkened window. “No,” he says softly. Will squeezes his hand again and Frederick smiles. “It’s true, I’m actually not, funny how a few months can change one’s attitude so profoundly.”

”Woah,” says Will and he twists his body and climbs on top of Frederick, straddling him. “Getting deep there Frederick, careful.” Will grins and Frederick can’t help but laugh, his hands resting on Will’s hips.

”I’m just...happy,” Frederick says cautiously. He smiles.

”Here and now,” says Will quietly. He leans down and kisses Frederick. “Let’s just see how things go,” he whispers against Frederick’s lips.

*********

They don’t have sex. Frederick is actually relieved because it’s a conversation that he doesn’t quite feel ready to have. Will does stay over though and it’s kind of terrifying. He can feel his heart pounding in his throat as he leads Will down the hallway and to his bedroom.

”I’m not surprised,” says Will with a smile when he sees Frederick’s gigantic bed. “Your choice or your decorators?”

”Pretty sure she prefers to be called a designer,” says Frederick and Will just shakes his head. “Look if you change your mind….”

”It’s okay Frederick,” says Will stepping close. His hands find their way around Frederick’s waist and it’s kind of nice to feel Will pressed against him like this. “Do I have to keep saying it? We’ll go as slow as you need.”

Frederick doesn’t exactly know how to respond. He doesn’t _want_ to keep waiting but taking a step forward is far too terrifying right now. He nods. Will steps back and starts unbuttoning his shirt and Frederick averts his gaze. He knows it’s dumb, especially when he’s seen Will’s dick, had it _in his mouth_. He picks up his folded pajamas from the chair near the door and heads to the ensuite bathroom. He closes the door and stands in front of the sink, looking at himself. He rolls his eyes at his reflection. _Idiot_ , he thinks.

He hasn’t really examined his scars this closely in some time, not since he poked at the crusty healing wounds in the hospital in sick fascination. He’s gotten used to averting his eyes but now he strips off his shirt and looks at himself in the bathroom mirror.

He’s not perfect, he can admit it to himself even if it’s something he can’t say aloud. He sucks in his stomach a bit but it just makes the line of the incision pucker even more. He sticks his stomach out instead but has to clap a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t laugh at how stupid he looks.

He turns sideways and twists his torso, looking at himself critically. Perhaps if he were feeling more confident he’d stride out into the bedroom nude and see what happens from there. He frowns and hunches his shoulders but then straightens when he sees how his stomach moves. He picks up his pajama pants and slips them on, adjusting the waistband up and down until he settles it under his belly button. For a moment he considers striding out into the bedroom like this but he picks up the pajama shirt and slides it on, buttoning it up without meeting his reflection’s gaze.

Frederick leans heavily against the marble counter as he brushes his teeth. The repetitive motion at least gives him something to concentrate on for the time being. He spits in the sink and runs his fingers through his hair as he looks up into the mirror. He supposes it’s now or never but the thought of Will waiting on the other side of the door terrifies him.

The bedroom is quiet when he slips back through the door. Will sits with his back to Frederick, in just his underwear. The sight of his naked back makes Frederick’s breath catch in his throat. Will’s back is smooth and pale but there’s a dark mottled bruise on his left shoulder. Frederick tries not to think about how it got there. Will turns and looks over his shoulder. He smiles and something in his expression terrifies Frederick despite the unspoken invitation in it.

”You sure you want me to stay over?” asks Will and his voice sounds too low, too _sexual_. Frederick swallows and Will must see it on his face because he shifts around on the bed to look at him, his face instantly changing to one of concern. “Hey Frederick I’m sorry, I can sleep in your guest room.”

”No!” says Frederick and he wants to hit himself when he hears how desperate he sounds. “Sorry, just, I do want you to stay I’m just...nervous.” His heart pounds and he can’t believe he’s actually admitted it but Will smiles at him.

”Me too,” he says and Frederick finds that hard to believe.

Frederick steps to the bed and lifts the edge of the covers, sliding under them. Will stands and Frederick does his best to look anywhere other than the bulge in the front of Will’s underwear.

Will gets into the bed but there’s still a massive space between them. Frederick is grateful as he turns to reach for the lamp. Will slides closer though and then there’s no space there at all and Frederick is suddenly not sure what to do at all.

”Shhh,” whispers Will and his arm comes to rest over Frederick’s hip and he presses against his back. “Just relax.”

Frederick stays stiff for far too long, trying to get his heart rate to slow and yet feeling it just pound faster and faster. Will doesn’t move behind him and eventually Frederick thinks that maybe nothing _has_ to happen after all. He closes his eyes and listens to Will’s breathing.

There was a time when this would be terrifying for other reasons, when hearing the breathing of another would just have made him think that someone was lurking or watching. He couldn’t even bear to have the damn cat come into his room at first, her sudden movements waking him with a start of such suddenness that he’d felt like he was dying. This is different though and he bites his lip in the dark and _tries_ to relax.

”I can hear you thinking,” says Will, his voice already sounding a little groggy. He repositions his arm around Frederick and squeezes against the soft flesh of Frederick’s side. Frederick wishes he wouldn’t put his hand just there. It’s making him self conscious about the way his body takes up the space in the bed.

He suddenly feels Will’s breath on the back of his neck but it’s just for a moment as Will places a small kiss on the skin above his collar. “Sleep Frederick, you’re overthinking.” And perhaps he is overthinking but it’s difficult not to. He can picture Will behind him, so perfect and lovely and _nice_ and why on earth would he choose to spend time in Frederick’s bed _sleeping_?

”Why me?” he asks and he hadn’t meant to ask it but he’s tired and holding the words in just seems like too much effort. Will chuckles quietly and shifts closer, pressing against Frederick’s back. His arm squeezes Frederick’s tummy again.

”Always overthinking things Frederick,” Will mutters. “Relax, you’re a catch.”

Frederick _knows_ he’s a catch. At least he used to know it, now he’s not so sure. There was a time when he was so self assured, when he was so aware of his value. He’s a respected psychiatrist after all, or at least he was, once. Those things don’t necessarily matter to Will though do they? He sighs and Will’s hand rubs against him.

”Isn’t me liking you enough?” asks Will. “I really do want to sleep.” Frederick bites his lip and tries to hold his body still but that must be even more of a giveaway.

”I like you a lot,” says Frederick and he curses himself for saying it the moment the words are out of his mouth. He’s just given the power to Will hasn’t he? But then that’s the one thing he’s liked the most about their relationship. There’s been a marked lack of pretension and the usual mind games that seem to accompany any of his social entanglements. He felt like even though Will must surely know he’s the one with the choice here, to leave or stay, that he’d at least not mess with his head. He takes a deep breath. “I think it’s turning into more than that.” He moves his hand and finds Will’s fingers against his side and clutches his hand.

”Don’t scare me eh?” says Will softly, snuggling that little bit closer. “I think I’ve fallen for you too.”

Frederick tries not to think about all of the horrid worse case scenarios for how he’s going to mess this up and settles into sleep with the comforting weight of Will’s arm around him.

*********

As if by instinct Frederick slams the laptop shut but then he remembers that he’s alone and the weight settling next to him is the cat. He breathes out and glares at her. “Some things need a little privacy,” he tells her. She ignores him.

Frederick goes back to his search, shifting a little as he browses through the various guides he’s been googling. It feels wrong but thrilling, exciting in the anticipation of the act itself. Who knew that “anal sex guide” brought up this many hits?

He’d ended up masturbating to one of the first videos he’d found. He can’t ever recall even watching gay porn let alone jacking off to it. The man in the video had reminded him a little of Will. While the man on the bottom, screaming in a high pitched voice had made Frederick cringe, he’d focused on the top and his dark hair and his dominant demeanor and the next thing he’d known his hand was in his own pants. He flushes at the memory.

He hasn’t managed to get much of anything done today. He’d gotten up and there’d been that quiet awkwardness of waking up next to Will. It was nice though, once he’d calmed down from the sudden start of realising he wasn’t alone in his bed. Will had made his excuses early and perhaps that should have made Frederick worry all the more but the kiss on his doorstep had reassured him.

”I don’t know about this guide,” he tells the cat conspiratorially, waving his hand at the laptop screen. “It says it’s not supposed to hurt but…” He shrugs. Frederick bites his lip and skims his eyes across the text. “This is embarrassing,” he says aloud, more for himself than the cat. Is he seriously considering how best to clean _down there_ so he can.... He closes the laptop again and sits, tapping his fingers across the lid. He turns to look at the cat. She narrows her eyes at him.

Frederick opens his laptop again and feels a bit disconnected as he searches for _places to purchase an anal douche online_.

He tries not to think about what it means to purchase supplies. He has to remind himself that right now it’s still a secret, one that he’s not obliged to share with Will. He doesn’t have to tell Will he’s ready until he is, doesn’t have to admit that he thinks he wants Will to _take him_ in _that_ way.

He shakes himself out of that particular train of thought. He scratches at the spot of come he somehow managed to get on his pants and wrinkles his nose. Will has clearly had a bad influence on his libido. He decides he should probably shower before the day is completely gone.

He tells himself that he’s not going to start touching himself in the shower but the feeling of the hot water on his shoulders and back seems to be having an effect on him. He’d normally just wash quickly and efficiently, particularly _down there_ and yet he finds himself leaning against the shower wall as he explores with his fingers.

It feels wrong but he keeps reminding himself that he’s being drawn in by the stupid misconception that he _shouldn’t_ put anything up there and of course he is in the shower, how much cleaner can he get? It doesn’t feel _bad_ but it doesn’t really feel much of anything. He’d thought it would feel more sexual or something but rubbing his fingers around the area just sort of tickles. It’s sensitive but not in the same way that his dick is. Frederick sticks his head under the spray of the shower and presses his fingertip to get inside. Now that is unpleasant. He stops and frowns. He’s definitely going to need lube. He’d thought the guide was being a bit dramatic with it’s calls for “lube and then more lube” but perhaps the author was onto something.

The hesitancy from before forgotten, Frederick quickly turns off the shower and steps out. He dries himself quickly and heads out to the bedroom, still dripping wet in places. He puts the towel down on the bed and lies on it. He takes a breath and looks at the ceiling and wonders what exactly he’s doing.

He keeps lube in his bedside drawer for self pleasure. He hasn’t needed any with a partner for so long, hasn’t had a partner in his bed in so long. He purses his lips at the thought of Will curled up next to him in this bed. He turns and rolls sideways, reaching for the bedside drawer and rummaging for the bottle. He ends up having to sit up straight to properly go through the contents as the bottle has ended up pushed to the very back of the drawer.

The lube is sort of dried out and Frederick shakes it but it doesn’t seem to loosen anything from the gummed up nozzle. He takes the cap off completely and squirts a dollop into his hand.

He’s tense, he knows that but his awareness doesn’t seem to be helping him relax like all those websites insisted. If he can’t do this by himself how is he going to handle things with Will? He presses forward and the lube is not as slippery as it was when the bottle was brand new. He frowns and presses and gets a finger inside and it doesn’t really feel like _anything_. For a moment he becomes completely aware of his surroundings and how ridiculous this whole scenario is. He imagines what someone might say if they walked in but then he takes a deep breath. He has to remind himself that he can do whatever the hell he wants in his own home and he starts to move his finger.

It doesn’t feel unpleasant so he tries for a second finger and there is definitely something about the stretching sensation that feels nice. He twists his wrists a bit and tries to find a comfortable angle. He wonders when it’ll start to feel _amazing_. Whenever he finds his prostate he guesses and curls his knees up a bit to get a better angle.

He’s not sure when it happens and it’s not a sudden feeling but at a certain point it starts to feel good. He bites his lip as he feels blood moving to his dick and he resists the urge to grab it with his other hand.

He closes his eyes and he has to admit, there’s something about the taboo nature of what he’s doing that is turning him on quite a bit. He presses his fingers deeper and twists and he thinks he might have nudged something in there because he feels a sudden _something_ that he can’t quite classify.

He keeps going but at a certain point the sensation levels off. He looks down at his erection and curls his other hand around it and suddenly he _feels it_. There’s something in the combined stimulation as he presses his fingers inside himself and strokes his dick. His arm is starting to go dead from the pressure of his body on it and he rolls onto his knees, face against the bedclothes and his wrinkled towel.

He groans and he doesn’t care who hears him, his arms now much freer to work in his ass and on his cock. It feels wrong, or at least like it should be wrong but he’s past the point of worrying about that kind of thing. He presses his fingers in more but he feels like he needs _more_ inside him. He’s too turned on to turn back from the edge and he squeezes his dick hard as he starts to come and _fuck_ the pressure in his ass makes it feel even better. He collapses onto the bed, fingers wet and he grimaces at his hand before wiping it on the towel. He at least got most of his come on the towel too but he still frowns at the mess.

Perhaps he’d worry about the mess some more or be over analysing this right now if he wasn’t so _relaxed_. He sighs and curls up and he can’t help but twitch the muscle in his ass and it feels strange. He closes his eyes and sighs loudly in what could only be satisfaction. Maybe this gay sex thing won’t be so bad after all.

*********

Frederick orders in dinner. They eat in the dining room rather than the living room as has become their routine. Will’s arrival feels so normal now and it’s something that perhaps could become mundane if it wasn’t _Will_. Frederick can’t help but smile when he thinks about Will so how could seeing him ever be anything less than wonderful?

”Getting sick of Italian?” asks Will as he slides the chopsticks out of their paper sleeve. Frederick hunches his shoulders and stares a little too hard at the noodles in front of him. Then Will laughs and he has to remind himself that Will can’t read his mind, that Will is just joking with him, that he and Will _have_ that kind of relationship. He smiles and lifts his head.

”You don’t like Thai?” Frederick ignores the chopsticks in favour of a fork and he takes a mouthful of his dish whose name he’s not entirely sure of. “They had a tofu option with most of their menu items.”

”Nah this is good,” says Will and he uses the chopsticks to slurp a mouthful of noodles. He chews and swallows, grinning at Frederick. “It’s almost like you’re open to new experiences.”

The words make Frederick choke on his mouthful and he coughs and tries to get a breath. His heart pounds and he’s not sure if it’s the lack of air, the panic over not being able to breathe or the jolt of horror that Will somehow knows about the box that arrived on Frederick’s doorstep this morning.

He wheezes, getting his breath back slowly and he feels Will’s hand gently rubbing his back. He smiles at Will, seeing the concern in his face and the way he’d raced around the table to be nearer. Will bends next to him, his face close and worry leaving his expression as he sees Frederick’s forced grin. Frederick shakes his head and pats Will on the shoulder. “Just swallowed wrong,” he says, his voice sounding rough. He clears his throat. “I’m fine.” Will straightens and moves back to his seat, retrieving his chopsticks and devouring another mouthful of noodles.

Will swallows and frowns then tilts his head as he studies Frederick’s face. ”You seem nervous or something, whatever it is, relax, it’s just me.”

”Sorry,” Frederick says softly and he looks down at his food and tells himself to stop acting so strangely.

Thankfully Will can tell exactly what Frederick seems to need and just asks him how his day was. It’s easy to talk about work, to talk about the world outside of the two of them. He smiles and looks to the side thoughtfully.

”I had a pretty good day today actually. A small breakthrough with a problem patient and…” he trails off for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing. “I felt like I might have done some solid work today, it’s a case I might be able to write a paper on.”

Will smiles at him. “You write many papers? I mean...you’ve published I suppose.” Will grins at him. “Of course you have, you’re smart like that.”

Frederick _knows_ he’s smart but hearing Will say it makes him feel warm and a little embarrassed, even if he enjoys the words. “I haven’t really worked on the academic side of things since after I...was attacked.” The words come out and while he’s never normally this candid, it feels good to just speak about it. Will reaches across the table and puts his hand over Frederick’s. “That kind of changes things. I mean I get out of the hospital and I struggled to finish that stupid paper about Gideon’s case and it was all just too personal at that stage.” Frederick shakes his head. “Anyway, Dr Lecter’s paper was _better_ remember?” He even manages to resist the urge to make air quotes. Will’s fingers briefly squeeze Frederick’s hand.

”Well you can hardly blame yourself, you were recovering.” Will offers. His smile is genuine and he tilts his head a certain angle that makes him look so sweet. Frederick can’t quite put his finger on the feeling he gets when he looks at Will. He smiles wistfully.

”I’m starting to think things are getting better,” he says and it’s as though some barrier inside of himself truly has opened. Saying how he’s feeling so openly feels cathartic. “I was so angry you know? Hannibal is just...he’s always getting the things I want.” Frederick slips his hand from Will’s and picks up his fork. He takes a bite of food and looks up to see Will’s worried expression. He swallows. “Sorry,” he says, suddenly sheepishly aware of how childish he must sound. “It shouldn’t matter but do you know anyone like that? Someone who just...things seem to be so effortless for them while you end up having to spend a hundred times the effort for a tiny fraction of the result?”

”I’m sorry,” says Will softly and he forces a smile.

”Oh no, I am, I...you haven’t done anything. I just, I’ve been so happy lately and it’s just putting a few things into perspective.” This time Frederick reaches across to grab for Will’s hand. Will doesn’t resist but his hand is limp in Frederick’s.

”What exactly happened then?” Will sounds so quiet and hesitant. Frederick looks up from where he’s staring at Will’s hand. “I mean then, when all that stuff happened, I...I want to understand.” Frederick squeezes Will’s hand subconsciously and Will slides his hand free.

”I told you, a patient attacked me, it was a high profile case. There were articles in the papers and...it was my own fault.” He clenches the muscles in his jaw. He hasn’t said those words out loud. He’s never admitted it out loud. Sure he’s heard it implied by others, he’s known deep down inside that it’s true but he’s never _said_ it.

”Frederick,” says Will. His voice sounds stern, almost an order, and Frederick looks up. “Don’t say something like that. I’m sorry for asking, you were so happy a moment ago.” Will looks sad and that’s one thing that Frederick definitely doesn’t want to be the cause of.

”It’s okay,” says Frederick softly and even if it’s not, he feels like he needs to say it. “Maybe you could read Dr Lecter’s paper, it’s an interesting read. It’s all about how my therapy is what made Gideon come after me.”

”Don’t say that,” says Will suddenly. Frederick looks at Will’s frown and wonders why he seems so angry. Perhaps he’s realised how pathetic Frederick is, how whatever he saw in him was wrong. “Frederick,” says Will softly and his face suddenly softens. He stands up and moves around the table, never letting go of Frederick’s hand.

”Bad things happen sometimes, people do bad things to each other.” Will pulls Frederick’s arm, urging him to stand. Frederick does and Will’s arms slide around him, bringing him into a close hug. It feels nice as he leans into Will’s shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault,” whispers Will and the words are exactly what Frederick wants to hear, wants to be _true_ , even if he doesn’t quite believe it.

He doesn’t cry even though the moment feels dramatic enough for it. They end up parting and returning to their food. Will even starts a conversation about the weather and Frederick ends up laughing while pointing out the intentional innocuousness of the subject.

The whole conversation even managed to pull Frederick away from the lurking anxiety of thinking about later, about what might happen if they were to go to his bedroom together. They talk and laugh until late and with the awkwardness forgotten, Frederick finds himself searching for the courage to ask Will to stay the night.

He doesn’t need to ask, doesn’t get the chance to when Will says he needs to leave and he kisses Frederick so softly and sweetly and his arms feel so good around Frederick’s body. When he feels so safe with Will like this it’s so difficult to see him go. He wishes that Will would stay while also feeling a little grateful that he won’t yet have the reminder that things are changing between them. He’ll be ready to cross those new physical lines, just not quite yet. Will makes him feel so safe that he wonders how he could ever have worried about taking that next step with him.

*********

Frederick looks at the closed patient file on his desk. He’d felt so wonderful, so _powerful_ just a few minutes earlier. He’d opened the file in a fit of inspiration, asking himself out loud why he had been avoiding looking at any of his old patient notes.

He knows on some level that he needs to take some of his patients back, or at least take on some new ones and for that moment, he’d felt ready to do that. There are patients that have arrived at his hospital that he’s never even _seen_ and while it has always been easy enough to point at all the work that needs to be done in the _running_ of the hospital, he feels like such a coward for hiding in his office all day.

He slides the file across the surface of his desk, just a few inches further away, as though that tiny distance will help. He frowns and wishes he’d never opened it.

His mood had plummeted and he can’t put his finger on the exact mechanics that had lead to him thinking he was strong enough for this. Perhaps it was the thought of Will, of that part of his life feeling right. He pities that version of himself from moments ago that ever thought he could handle it.

He breathes and eventually calms somewhat. But his nerves are still on edge and when there’s a knock at his office door, he’s a bit harsher than usual in his sharp “What?”

Barney pokes his head in and looks apologetic, or perhaps he’s just bracing himself for Frederick’s bad mood. Frederick sighs. “What is it?” he asks again, sagging back into his chair with a certain amount of defeat. It’s hard to care about whatever trivial issue Barney has to tell him about. 

Barney shifts from foot to foot as though nervous of speaking. Frederick sighs. Perhaps he was a little abrupt but then Barney _works_ for him, he can’t expect Frederick to be so careful of his _feelings_. “Um, there’s someone here to see you,” says Barney, his eyes glued to the side as though he really doesn’t want to look at Frederick. “It’s Dr Lecter.”

It’s such a cliche, thinks Frederick, as the blood runs cold in his veins. He’d always thought it was a stupid turn of phrase and yet the chill that cuts through him feels all too real. He’d felt so happy before only to have it snatched away by the reminder that he’s not able to do the one thing he’s ever been sure of. How cruel is the universe to send him _Hannibal_ now, to mock him with the person who seems to be getting all of the things from life that rightly should be Frederick’s.

He takes too long to answer, evident in the way Barney shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot. “Send him in, I’ll see him now,” says Frederick, his voice surprisingly calm. He straightens his tie and clears his throat and puts on the face he knows he needs to show Hannibal.

Frederick sits and then stands before finally sitting for good. He can’t quite decide how best to approach talking to Hannibal. He thinks that as long as the subject of Gideon doesn’t come up, he might be able to handle things. He tells himself that he doesn’t _care_ what Hannibal thinks of him, that he _hates_ him. While it might be true, some part of him wants the other man to have a high opinion of him too.

”Frederick, it’s good to see you.” Frederick changes his mind _again_ and stands up. Everything about Hannibal’s stupid smug face makes Frederick want to hit him as he walks into Frederick’s office. Frederick forces a smile.

”Hannibal, a pleasant surprise, what can I do for you?” He extends his hand and Hannibal shakes it, firm and commanding and damn he’s good. He just exudes confidence and Frederick doesn’t want to admit that what he’s feeling right now is jealousy.

”Ah so eager to talk about work,” says Hannibal and he sits down in the chair facing Frederick’s desk. He looks so laid back and relaxed, as though this is _his_ office. Frederick clenches his jaw and nods. “How have you been? I don’t think I’ve seen you since the Psychiatric society dinner.”

Frederick narrows his eyes before he can remind his face not to give away how he’s really feeling about this visit. He shrugs in a manner that he hopes looks nonchalant. “Has it been that long? I don’t think we even had a chance to talk then.” _Thankfully_ , he adds in his head because that night turned out to be pretty good, all things considered.

”Well I was a little distracted,” says Hannibal and he smiles a bland smile that would seem so inoffensive if it was on anyone else’s face. “I did see you there though, I wanted to say hello.”

Frederick thinks he should probably congratulate Hannibal. It’s what he would do if he was being the better person, but he just doesn’t _want_ to. He’s still angry and maybe that’s okay.

”Actually, I am working on a new paper and was hoping to meet with one of your residents.” Hannibal looks at Frederick expectantly. His expression is completely neutral and inoffensive and yet everything about it makes Frederick hate him more. “Just a few hours, once a week for oh...let’s say the next six weeks.” Hannibal adds.

Frederick wants to say no, wants to hold onto the small bit of power he holds over Hannibal as tightly as he can. He _wants_ to be petty and vindictive and yet, the pathetic part of him deep down wonders if it might help Hannibal think of him favourably.

He almost feels disappointed in himself as he goes over the details of Hannibal’s visits. He can’t even imagine a scenario where he might have said no and not sounded pathetic. He might sound pathetic anyway, giving Hannibal exactly what he wants.

Frederick doesn’t even know the patient in question, he’d arrived several months ago and while Frederick might be officially overseeing his treatment, he hasn’t been treating anyone. He shuffles through the papers on his desk for want of something to do with his hands. He wants to look important to Hannibal and perhaps he _does_. Hannibal did have to come to him for permission after all.

”It was good to see you Frederick,” says Hannibal and it’s polite but the words just seem as though they’re crafted to annoy Frederick deeply. He forces a smile at Hannibal’s stupid smug face.

”Likewise Hannibal, until next time.” Hannibal turns to go but pauses at the door and turns to look at Frederick, eyes narrowing for a fraction of a second.

”I’ll have to have you over for dinner,” he says. “Perhaps you can bring your friend? A Friday evening perhaps.”

Frederick’s heart feels as though it stops, for a moment, until he remembers that Hannibal could be talking about anyone and what special significance could a Friday hold for Hannibal? He really doesn’t have anything to be ashamed of. It’s none of Hannibal’s business who he’s seeing or when. He then of course he jumps to wondering how Hannibal could know he’s seeing anyone at all. His mind races and he looks at Hannibal stupidly.

”Frederick,” says Hannibal with a nod and a smile. He turns and he leaves, closing the door behind him. Frederick sits, looking at the door and thinking about how much he _hates_ that smug asshole.

*********

Frederick’s mood does not improve for the rest of the afternoon. He doesn’t try to distract himself. Instead he pulls the newspaper from the bottom drawer of his desk and looks at the article about Hannibal winning _his_ award. He grits his teeth and stares and he feels even more angry when he thinks that he had been happy until Hannibal had shown his stupid face.

His anger simmers for the remainder of his workday and he heads home, hoping the whole time that his mood will improve. It doesn’t. He can’t stop thinking about how much he hates Hannibal. How pathetic he is for deeply desiring the man’s approval while despising him so. His fingers grip the steering wheel tighter when he passes a billboard with a group of happy, smiling people on it. He’s sick of seeing other people happy, other people with the things _he_ wants.

He’s angry up until the point when he’s not. He’s not sure when it happens, as though he’s suddenly exhausted, burned out and not able to feel much of anything any more. He sits on the couch and then lies and eventually he dozes.

It’s the knock on the door that wakes him, disorientated and confused and stumbling towards the door awkwardly before he remembers he should have brought his cane. He leans heavily against the wall beside the door as he opens it. Will smiles at him and then looks worried.

”Are you okay?” he asks and just the thought of someone, of _Will_ worrying about him makes Frederick feel light and happy, dragging his mood up from the darkness it’s fallen into. Will’s arms reach around him and pull him tight and Will pressed against him, embracing him, feels so safe and comfortable.

”Bad day?” whispers Will and Frederick nods into his shoulder. He feels stupid for getting so angry. Hannibal shouldn’t matter, he doesn’t really have _everything_ Frederick wants. He pulls Will tighter.

Eventually they part, Will patting his back and leading Frederick to the couch. He scoops up the cat and puts her on Frederick’s lap and goes to order dinner. Will takes care of him and it feels so good. He can’t remember feeling like this, not for a long time at least.

Frederick sits and strokes the purring cat until the food arrives and he eats his veggie burger while eyeing Will’s cheeseburger. Will chats about inconsequential things to pass the time. The nonsense topics are reassuring though, that the mundane and normal world outside has gone on regardless of whatever is happening between them.

”Are you going to tell me what happened today?” asks Will and while Frederick might be feeling a bit ashamed of how badly he’d let seeing Hannibal affect him, he doesn’t want to hide things from Will.

”Hannibal Lecter dropped by my office about seeing one of the hospital residents.” Will nods and looks away quickly. “Do you remember him?” asks Frederick. “He’s the one who was accepting the award the night we….”

”I remember,” says Will quietly and he blindly reaches for Frederick’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “He said something to upset you?” he asks, his voice so soft and quiet. “He told you…?” Will trails off as though he’s trying to think of what horrible thing Hannibal could of said. Frederick doesn’t want to admit that it was all his problem, that Hannibal didn’t even _say_ anything really. He would like to keep up some pretense that he’s not bothered by the things that have happened and yet, he doesn’t want to lie, not to Will.

He turns and looks at Will’s profile. Will stares at the wall and Frederick shakes his head even though Will can’t see it. “No. It was nothing just... just a bad day.” Will turns back and Frederick smiles at him just long enough to see the edges of Will’s mouth turn up too.

”So you don’t actually have much of a relationship with the guy?” asks Will and Frederick frowns. He’s not exactly sure how to explain Hannibal.

”We’re colleagues I suppose, he’s just...he’s one of those people who seems to be able to do everything perfectly. He’s….” Frederick trails off, floundering for words. “He’s just always managed to be better than me at everything.” It hurts to say out loud but Will squeezes his hand again and he looks down and smiles. Will’s fingers threaded through his own, this positive little connection between them. Frederick turns and leans and kisses Will.

Will jumps a little in surprise but he kisses back sweet and gentle and Frederick wonders if it would be such a bad idea to bring Will to his bed right this second. Will pulls away and strokes Frederick’s hair with his free hand and Frederick wants to laugh at the gesture but he’s too turned on to find much of anything all that funny.

”Maybe we should both just quit and run away together,” whispers Will and Frederick can’t actually tell if he’s joking or not. He sits upright and looks at Will’s face. Will winces at him. “Well, I mean, one can dream can’t they?”

Frederick sits back against the cushions and nods. What a silly dream, he thinks, and even still, does he _want_ to quit? He loves being a doctor, used to love telling people about his work. It makes him feel special and important and despite how much he’s struggled the last year, he doesn’t want to give that up. He looks sideways at Will and wonders about Will giving up _his_ profession. The thought of that is much more appealing but he knows exactly how that might go. He doesn’t want Will to do things because of him, in every version of the scenario, Will just ends up resenting him and leaving him. He doesn’t want Will to leave.

”No,” says Frederick quietly. He tries to smile but he’s sure he just looks stupid. “We’re both good at what we do, aren’t we?” Will shrugs and Frederick leans in and kisses him again. Will doesn’t seem enthusiastic when he kisses back and Frederick stops. “I’m sorry,” he says softly against Will’s mouth because he knows he’s done _something_ even though he’s not sure what. He tries to kiss Will again but Will turns his head and Frederick pulls away completely. He has messed this up, it was only a matter of time.

They sit in silence and Frederick clenches his jaw as he waits for Will to say that he’s come to his senses, that he’s going to leave and never come back.

”Do you...want to go to your bedroom?” asks Will softly and Frederick’s breath catches in his throat. He ends up coughing and no doubt making a fool of himself. Will turns and pats his back and smiles at him.

”Do...do _you_ want to?” asks Frederick and he knows how desperate he must sound. Will smiles and grabs his hand, looping his other arm around Frederick’s shoulders and pulling him against him.

”More than anything.”

*********

Will’s fingers and lips brush across his skin and Frederick feels giddy again. How can he dwell on worries and problems when Will is near? He gasps as Will unbuttons his shirt, teeth pinching at the skin of his neck before releasing it and licking at the stinging spot.

They’ve been together like this before, on some level and yet his gasped words, him telling Will that he _wants it_ , changes things. Tonight he _wants_ and he doesn’t want it to stop, doesn’t want an excuse or a reason to not go further.

Will undresses him and he brushes his hands across Frederick’s skin as he bares each new part and Frederick shivers involuntarily. He whispers Will’s name, gasps it and he isn’t sure what he’s trying to say but he wants to communicate something. He wants to let Will know what he’s feeling even though he can’t put it into words in his own mind yet.

He kisses Will and he unbuckles Will’s belt and all he knows in this moment is that he wants to do and be whatever it is that Will wants most in this world.

Frederick slides his tongue along skin as he blindly searches, tasting sweat and _Will_. He slides down the body before him and despite the ache he gets in his back when he moves like this, he finds comfort for other reasons on his knees.

He’s gotten used to the feeling of Will’s cock on his tongue, sliding against him and tasting bitter and sharp. He’s used to gagging as he tries to go deeper each time but something about tonight makes it feel easy, effortless and so good it makes his own cock so hard it hurts.

Will’s fingers comb through his hair and he murmurs softly and groans and every sound is music. Frederick drools a little but for once thoughts of how he might look to the world are far from his mind. Will holds his head and pulls away and Frederick reaches out to him, to touch him in any way he can.

Will feels so good and perfect, his skin so hot and knowing that it belongs to Will makes it all so much better. Frederick groans as Will presses him to the bed and clutches at the duvet when he feels Will’s hands running down his sides, across his hips.

He’s not sure if he has his eyes open or closed, all he can process right now seems to be the points of flesh where Will touches him. Will turns him over and Frederick hears a moan from his own mouth that he just can’t hold in. He feels Will’s lips on his lower back and he shifts his hips.

The slide of the fabric of his duvet against his dick is more sensation than he can quite process but he rolls his hips anyway. He presses back to where he senses rather than sees Will.

Will’s mouth and tongue and fingers feel so good _there_ and Frederick lets go of those formerly lingering thoughts about how _wrong_ this should be. He shivers as the point of Will’s tongue finds it’s way circling against tight muscle and it feels so many countless times better than his own fingers ever have.

He knows he’s making pathetic noises but he can’t control himself, can’t hold back the sounds when he’s spending so much energy trying not to come instantly like a teenager. He shudders at the cold air against wet skin as Will comes up for breath. Will leans down again and breathes over him, hot and damp.

Will has the lube in hand, somehow retrieving it while Frederick was too wrapped up the edge of his orgasm closing in. It’s cold but Will’s fingers are gentle and Frederick arches his back as much as he can before it starts to hurt, the tug of pain from old wounds bringing him back to a safer distance from the edge.

He shifts his hips up to reach for his dick but Will’s fingers close around his wrist. “No baby, you’re not allowed touch.” Will whispers and Frederick drops his arm limply against the bed. He is silent, unmoving as Will works and he doesn’t argue, in this moment he just wants whatever it is that _Will wants_.

He wants to be what Will needs as much as he needs Will right now. He’s waited for this experience, to share it with Will and take him close and just let go. He wants things he can’t quantify in his own mind, can’t line up and express like his other desires, this is different. He feels strange, empty and open when Will slides his fingers out and he isn’t sure if he should twitch the muscle there, to see if he can still control it. From his experience of exploring on his own, he’s afraid to move, afraid he’ll just wind up closed up and he wants to stay open, wants Will _inside him_.

Will rolls him over and kisses him and Frederick already feels like he’s completely lost control of his limbs. He wants to reach for Will, wants to touch him and pull him closer. He wants to speak but he can’t. His vision focuses and there’s _Will_ and despite what he knows is about to happen, he feels _safe_.

Will whispers softly, calming words and reassurances. He tells Frederick that he’s being brave, being good and every small piece of praise makes Frederick feel warm and proud and happy. He clutches at Will’s shoulders as Will draws him close, slides against him, teasing him.

Frederick quivers as he feels how hard Will is, how Will’s dick presses against his flesh and Frederick tilts his hips, opens his legs and soundlessly _asks_ with his body. Will obliges.

Just like his fingers, it’s uncomfortable at first. It’s not unpleasant, it just _is_. Frederick holds Will close and breathes into his shoulder, he arches his back and curls his body to try to make it a little easier for them to fit together in this position. Will pushes himself up on his arms and looks at Frederick with an expression of such fondness that Frederick might not even hesitate to call it _love_. He doesn’t think he’s ever been looked at that way, ever.

It’s better than what he’s done with his own fingers, it’s _more_ and when Will starts to move it’s more again. He presses inside Frederick’s body and he’s reaching the places Frederick couldn’t seem to quite find on his own. He gasps and digs his fingers into Will’s flesh and feels Will’s hot breath against his ear as Will’s head tips forward. Frederick feels the muscles in Will’s shoulders flex as he moves, thrusting inside him and Frederick lifts his legs up and around Will, trying to pull him in deeper.

Frederick can feel it build, thinks he’s just a few strokes of his hand away from coming. He tries to reach between them but he’s torn between pulling Will in tighter against him and making room for his hand. He turns his frustration into a noise and Will kisses him, softly. It’s tender and gentle and Frederick can’t categorise this in his head. He’s not sure if they’re fucking or making love. He groans and wriggles and knows that he needs something but isn’t sure what it is.

Will moves and props himself far enough away from Frederick’s face to slide a hand between them and start jerking Frederick’s dick. Frederick isn’t too proud to let go the second he’s near enough. He doesn’t try to hold back he just lets go and he’s floating free on a wave of hormones and released lust.

He becomes acutely aware of everything Will is doing, the feeling of Will’s cock inside his ass and the slide and drag of latex against skin. He feels Will’s lips against his neck and the heat of Will’s breath and he hears Will’s groan as he comes. He feels everything and the pulse and shudder as Will comes, thrusting his hips forward, deeper.

”I love you,” Will whispers and Frederick knows that he can’t trust words said so close to an orgasm but he wants it to be real _so badly_. Will pulls out and folds his arms around Frederick and holds him tight and kisses the side of his head. “That was amazing, _you_ were amazing.” Frederick wraps his arms around Will and smiles into his shoulder at the praise.

”Thank you,” whispers Frederick and he snuggles tight. It feels so good to be so close to another, to feel _safe_ like this. He smiles and wonders why he ever worried about anything, things will work themselves out in the end.

*********

Frederick surfaces from the deepest most refreshing sleep he’s had in far too long. He doesn’t remember any bad dreams and the warmth of the body next to him makes him open his eyes with a smile on his face.

Will looks peaceful. He looks calm and Frederick silently studies his face, taking in each detail of Will, _his_ Will. Frederick could be quite happy lying here forever, in the morning silence with Will sleeping peacefully in his bed. He’s not sure how much time passes but it passes quickly as Frederick loses himself in thoughts of how Will had come into his life and altered things.

He’s had his world upended before of course and he knows now that things were never going to go back to the way they were before. Looking at Will now, he wonders if different is actually better for him, in the end.

Will is beautiful in sleep and as his eyes flutter awake, Frederick feels his heart beating all the harder in his chest. The spell is broken but the woken Will is just as beautiful, perhaps moreso in that he is no longer some dream like fantasy but a real person, looking at Frederick through sleepy eyes and smiling.

”Hey,” says Frederick softly and the moment he’s said it he hides his face in embarrassment. Will laughs and Frederick peeks up from his pillow only to be met by Will’s lips.

”Morning.” Will grins and stretches and Frederick can’t stop the smile spreading across his own face.

”Staying for breakfast?” asks Frederick and he hopes he doesn’t sound _too_ hopeful. He doesn’t want Will to feel like he _has_ to stay, even though they did just have sex. He bites his lip as he watches Will stretch his arms upwards and open and close his fingers into fists.

”Sure, sounds good.”

Frederick feels relieved and in a moment of eagerness he turns to slide out of the bed and figure out what to make. Will grabs his shoulder and pulls him back, leaning over Frederick’s face. His breath his hot and he’s so _close_ and the kiss catches Frederick off guard even though Will had clearly telegraphed it.

Frederick normally takes his morning wood with him into the shower first thing and he’d had the thought in the back of his mind that he’d just let it go away by itself this morning. Will’s way of dealing with it is much more _fun_.

It’s brief but satisfying and Frederick returns the favour, enjoying the way Will’s body looks stretched out in his bed. Frederick feels strangely powerful. The thought of being the one to force those noises out of Will makes him feel good in a way he had become unfamiliar with. He hopes Will is going to give him the chance to become much more accustomed to this wonderful feeling.

They shower together and Frederick is glad that they took care of things beforehand because he just knows he’d fall on his ass and ruin things. Will washes his hair and it feels good, like he’s being taken care of. He washes Will’s back and it’s just _nice_ , to feel so normal, to feel so natural and boring and not _care_ about what’s going on outside of their little bubble of space.

They eat cereal and Frederick apologises for not having any eggs and Will laughs and kisses him. It all strikes Frederick as so very domestic. So much so that he says it out loud.

”I suppose so,” says Will, between sips of still slightly too hot coffee. “It’s nice though, mornings with you.”

”Mornings,” says Frederick, focusing on the plurality of the word. He smiles into his own cup and takes another sip.

”Is this...turning into something?” asks Will and Frederick looks up from the kitchen countertop he’s been staring at. “I guess it already has.” Will adds the words as he looks into Frederick’s eyes and for a moment, Frederick is completely certain that everything is going to be okay.

”Is it strange that the longer I’ve known you, the quieter you’ve gotten?” asks Will.

”I...I...mean, I’m just….” Frederick scrambles to respond. He didn’t _mean_ to be rude, not to _Will_. Will laughs and pats his arm.

”No, it’s not a bad thing. I mean, other people, they’re quiet and you have to draw them out. It’s like they get more confident as time goes on and well...you’ve always been this amazing confident guy, or at least that’s how you wanted to seem. It’s like the real you is quiet and it just took a while. You used to talk about all these things that I...I don’t know, I got the impression they didn’t really matter. It’s nice.” Will bites his lip and tilts his head a little, as though considering what to say. “I feel like I’m privileged to see this side of you.”

Frederick feels like his heart stops, for a moment. He desperately wants to say something to Will, wants to say something beautiful that could make this man in front of him fall for him, fall in _love_ with him. Right now there’s nothing that Frederick wants more and he’s pretty sure he’s fallen in love himself.

Frederick wants to say something but he’s quite sure that if he opens his mouth right now, something stupid will come out of it. He doesn’t want to bring some new terrible thing down on himself. He stares at Will and then Will breaks the moment of panic by laughing. “There’s that look,” says Will and he returns to his coffee with a smirk.

Frederick smiles then, perhaps there is comfort in the silence. If there’s one thing he enjoys the most about Will it’s the easy silence coupled with Will’s uncanny ability to know when words are necessary.

Will’s talent doesn’t seem to be with him today as he breaks himself out of his thoughts, blurting words. “I said before, about going somewhere, leaving, I don’t know….” He trails off and Frederick sees this strange worry, or perhaps it’s panic in Will’s eyes. Will is so calm and level, Will is _his_ touchstone. Frederick wraps his fingers around his coffee cup and licks his lips.

”I...you mean quitting your...job?” Frederick finishes lamely, unsure exactly how he’s supposed to respond without making whatever is wrong, _worse_.

”I don’t know,” says Will and he rolls his shoulders, stretching. He sighs. “Not _quitting_ quitting, just...I don’t know, sticking with my regulars and when they’re done, just, that’s it. I never got another replacement for you...I mean for your appointment.” He shrugs and looks down at his empty coffee cup. “It’s not bad, it’s...sometimes it’s pretty good actually. I just couldn’t go back to seeing strangers.”

The return of their Friday meetings makes sense now and Frederick knows how this goes. If he says yes, says that he’d _like_ that, then the resentment is only a short way away. Will has already given up income for him, given up work to spend more time with him. If Frederick says no he’s a liar and he doesn’t _want_ to lie, not to Will. He’s never been very good with relationships. He knows psychology, he _should_ be great at these things and on some level he’d always thought that it was never his fault. Will is perfect and Frederick doesn't want to screw this up. He always manages to piss the other person off somehow and while he can usually figure it out after the fact, that doesn’t stop it from happening. He doesn’t want that to happen with Will. He frowns and stares at Will who turns his face up from his cup to really _look_ at Frederick. Will is staring at him now and Frederick tries to tell his mouth to answer but he’s out of words.

Frederick nods and Will cocks his head. “Do you really mean that?” asks Frederick and he feels like he’s slipping into the comfortable rut of the knowing psychiatrist. Just a few probing questions, prodding the other person without having to examine himself too closely. Will narrows his eyes a little though.

”Yes,” says Will quietly.

Frederick nods and if he were with a patient he’d be taking notes right now. Not necessarily because of any great insight but because he’s always found that what your patient thinks of _you_ is almost as important as what you’re thinking of them.

”I just mean that...you’re not part of that life, not really….” Will sighs and props his chin on one fist, elbow leaning heavily on the countertop. “It’s been nice having another person in my life that...well.” Will laughs suddenly, sitting up and covering his face with his hand. “Where have my thoughts gone? I mean, I know how we met, but it’s _different_ now.” Will peeks out from between his fingers, a shy smile on his face. Frederick suddenly feels even more nervous. Will looks so perfect and handsome and _sweet_ and Frederick is going to mess this up sooner or later.

It’s only a matter of time and Frederick is so torn between making this last as long as he can make it last and ruining things quickly so that the pain might be minimised. “I don’t know what I should say...what I feel or what I’d say if you were a patient.”

Will’s face shifts. His body moves, demeanour changing just like that. Closed off, suspicious and Will frowns at him and Frederick knows, this is where it all goes wrong isn’t it? He thinks back to however many other relationships, to their last days. The other person getting mad at him and leaving.

”I don’t want you to say what you think you _should_ ,” says Will, his voice soft and low, measured. “I want you to tell me how you _feel_.”

It’s all so much easier said than done and Frederick pauses, balancing on the edge. He doesn’t want to lie, not to Will, _never_ to _Will_. “I’m scared,” he says and he is, has been for far too long. He’s been scared of what everyone thinks or what people will say but all that fear pales in comparison to the fear that any moment now Will is going to see right through him.

Will shakes his head and Frederick becomes aware of all these little ticks, all the pauses, the way Will _speaks_. His Will is acting strangely and Frederick knows it’s because he wants to say something, something bad. Perhaps last night wasn’t good or he’s changed his mind or he’s _testing_ Frederick somehow. “What is it?” he asks and he just wants Will to _tell_ him, to get it over with.

”Just tell me, whatever it is that you want to say.”

”Frederick….” Will looks at him and then turns, standing up, moving away, making all this _space_ between them. “I’m sorry,” he whispers and Frederick’s heart drops.

”You’re...calling this off….”

Will turns around, snapping back to stare at Frederick. “What? No!” he shakes his head. “I...I don’t want to be the reason...I just, I wanted to tell you earlier but you...well when you _spoke_ about him I...I could tell that you’d never forgive me and even though I didn’t really have a choice...I was _scared_ of losing you.” Will crosses his arms and Frederick feels his mouth go dry, his stomach flutters and he can’t remember ever feeling this nervous before.

”I get it, you hate the guy but...I didn’t realise who he was, well, not at first and well...it was only one time, I told him I wasn’t interested in making it a regular thing. He...he made it weird, like...I don’t know, I can’t explain it. It wasn’t good, it was bad if anything, unpleasant.”

”I don’t understand Will.”

”That guy, _Hannibal_. He booked me...I went on a _date_ with him.”

Frederick wants to throw up. He doesn’t. He wants to say something, wants to _feel_ something but he doesn’t. He stares at Will and Will must say something but it’s all a bit of a haze as Will takes his coat and puts it on. Will hesitates, as though he’ll kiss Frederick goodbye. He _always_ kisses Frederick goodbye but this time he doesn’t.

”I’m sorry,” he says softly and then he leaves.

*********

It’s strange how quickly life slips back into a pattern. He goes to work and he comes home and he looks at his phone and wonders. He wonders what happened exactly. Did he do something wrong or did Will? Did they fight? He’s not even sure what it was that happened. He just remembers Will’s face and a sad look in his eyes and Frederick knows that he must have said something, done something to make Will leave.

He runs over Will’s admission again and again and he tries to picture Will and Hannibal together. He expects such an image to make him feel sick, angry, _disgusted_. Yet he can’t seem to hold onto it. Hannibal is always getting the things Frederick wants, is always being the person Frederick wanted to be. He can’t have Will too, it’s just not _fair_.

He should _feel_ something but perhaps he’s just worn out. He’s felt like a failure too often to feel that way any more. He should despair, about many things. He should be concerned that he didn’t notice things at the time that now seem suspicious. Will had talked about seeing new people...new _customers_. Will is good at telling people what they want to hear, he’s too good at that. Perhaps it’s the only reason Frederick fell for him.

Will doesn’t call and Frederick stares at his phone and wishes he would, even if he dreads talking to Will. He dreads the questions that he knows will come out of his mouth. He’ll ask what Hannibal was like, if he was _better_ than Frederick. He’ll ask what he did to mess up, how he made this happen.

At work he looks at the clock and fabricates a meeting for the time that he knows Hannibal will be in the building. A good excuse not the see his stupid smug face. He wonders how Hannibal came to call up Will’s agency. Was it on a whim or was it because he somehow knew about Will and Frederick? Perhaps he saw them and just like everything else, had to take it away. He recalls the conversation with Hannibal, the comment about Frederick's ”friend” from the dinner. Every memory has a new significance now.

Frederick gets through his day and surely this is any other day after the incident but before he met Will. Things should be numb and time should just _pass_. He’s seen other things now, he’s seen what being with Will can be like and going back is not so easy. He thinks about reading some papers, examining his feelings about this but he’s always proudly thought of himself as above analysis, that his thoughts weren’t so mundane and average as to be easily seen through like that. Deep down though, he knows, even if he’s not ready to accept. He’s lost this chance and screwed it up and everything he wants will leave him in the end.

”You’re being pessimistic,” he tells his empty office and he misses having someone to talk to about these things. Even the cat is preferable to this and he thinks about going home and holding her and eating icecream. Isn’t that what people in the movies do in these circumstances?

Frederick doesn’t want to be so pathetic. He doesn’t want to second guess himself so much. He wants to be confident and wonderful and he wants to feel as powerful as he used to before...before he became so aware of every one of his shortcomings. Was he so blind to it before or was he actually that much better at everything back then? He can’t know now.

He leaves early and his life can never be so easy as to have no obstacles in his path. His timing is all wrong, he’s chosen the wrong moment because of _course_ Hannibal is there, leaving after his session. He’s cordial and polite and Frederick feels indescribable rage when he sees his face, when he _thinks_ about Hannibal and Will in the same context.

He’s polite in return of course and he knows it’s because he’s a coward. Another might confront Hannibal, ask him what he’s up to, tell him his suspicions that this was not simple coincidence. Frederick is polite and he hates himself for it. Deep down he _still_ wants Hannibal to respect him and it’s the hardest thing for Frederick to reconcile in his own mind.

He finds himself easily slipping into the version of himself that brags and tells Hannibal that he has so many interesting cases at the hospital that he can barely stay on top of them all. He tells Hannibal that things are wonderful and Hannibal nods and smiles and it never reaches his eyes. Frederick hates him but not as much as he hates himself.

He goes to his car and he drives home. He sits with his cat and he pets her and suddenly this doesn’t feel like a temporary circumstance. He’d always known that certain things were temporary, or at least convinced himself that he had. Now he just wonders if he’ll see Will again, if things will be messed up when he does, _if_ he does.

He stays up late and finds himself trying to find the website that he must have used. He can’t seem to find it. He’s cleared his search history since then and who knows what he’d drunkenly done months ago. He thinks about calling Will but he doesn’t.

*********

It’s three days of tortuous uncertainty before Will shows up at Frederick’s house. He looks...sad perhaps but Frederick isn’t quite sure why. He asks if he can come in and Frederick stumbles to let him pass and Will walks in and scoops up the cat and holds her close to his chest.

”I’ve messed this up,” says Will and Frederick can’t quite believe his ears. “I should have said something right away but…I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

Frederick walks to the couch and sits, biting his lip before he can figure out what to say. “I remember what things were like before...before you, before Gideon, before _everything_.” Frederick moves to the couch and sits down, stroking the cat and feeling her squirming in his arms. Will sits down next to him, a conspicuous gap between them.

”Whatever you were like before, I don’t _care_ ,” says Will. He sighs and lets the cat go and she runs across the floor to hide under an end table. “I just...can’t we just talk about now, about us?”

Frederick turns and looks at Will and he knows he can never say no, will never be able to say no, not to a request like that. “I fell for you and then everything went wrong,” whispers Frederick and Will forces a smile.

”People have fallen for me before, but this is different, I fell right back.”

Frederick hunches his shoulders. “I thought I’d lost everything but then I met you and I realised I have so much more to lose.” He looks at Will and frowns. “I can’t lose you but I feel like I already did.”

”How?” asks Will and Frederick slides his hand across the couch cushions towards Will. He stops himself before he reaches Will’s thigh.

”Hannibal, he takes everything I want and yet I still wish he’d at least _respect_ me.”

Will shakes his head and reaches out to take Frederick’s limp hand from the surface of the couch. He cups it in his own against his knee. “You probably don’t want to hear about it but I want to tell you and you’re going to listen.” He squeezes Frederick’s hand and Frederick remains silent. “I was looking for another regular client after I had them stop billing you. I get a message from a client. He’s polite, seems respectable, not into anything freaky at least. He wants me to come over and I go.” Frederick tries to pull his hand back but Will holds on. “There’s something off about him the second we meet and he seems so damn familiar but then I think hey, maybe it’s nothing. He makes dinner and he’s just….” Will sighs and strokes the back of Frederick’s hand. “One of the reasons I got into this, one of the reasons I’m good at this is that I can read people. I can tell what people are like, I can talk to them, tell them what they want to hear. But this guy? He was too good at faking, I mean, I fell for it at first but then he showed me the real him. He was like a fucking shark, dead behind the eyes or something.”

Frederick feels Will’s grip on his hand loosen and he pulls it free. He stares at his knees and asks the question he doesn’t want to know the answer to. “Did you fuck him?”

Will is silent for a long time. “Does it matter?” he asks but Frederick doesn’t answer and Will continues. “If I say yes you’ll never be able to look at me the same way again and if I say no you’ll call me a liar. I can’t win here.”

”Just tell me,” says Frederick and he doesn’t _want_ to know but he can’t stop the words. He _must_ know.

”He took me to his bedroom and I wouldn’t say _we_ fucked. What happened was him _using_ me. I’ve been doing this for a long time, too long. i’ve never had someone make me feel like that.” Will shudders and looks at Frederick. “He made me feel like I wasn’t even a person. Even if I hadn’t figured out who he was, I’d never see him again.”

Frederick looks at Will. “Everything I have is usually something Hannibal rejected first. He gets headhunted for jobs I’ve applied for, picked first to write articles that I only got after he turned them down. He wins awards he knows I _want_.”

”And what if I say that I don’t want him? That I _never_ wanted him and I can say that with confidence because I’ve seen what he’s really like?” Will sighs and shakes his head. “You can be a real asshole Frederick.”

”What?” Frederick splutters and he’s suddenly so annoyed. How dare Will say that _he’s_ the asshole. “I’m not the one who slept with my boyfriend’s worst enemy,” he hisses and Will grins at him suddenly.

”We’re using the boyfriend label now?” he asks and Frederick opens his mouth, then closes it. He doesn’t know what to say, the words had just slipped out. Will slides across the gap and grabs Frederick’s hand, leans in and kisses Frederick’s cheek. Frederick doesn’t move.

”This is just a fight Frederick, you can be an asshole sometimes, you’re sometimes full of yourself but I see right through you, it’s all an act to cover for all these little insecurities.” He pats Frederick’s knee. “And I didn’t come clean with you right away. I work a job that makes this hard and well...I care about you enough to be willing to make some changes.”

”I don’t want you to,” whispers Frederick.

Will puts his arm around Frederick. “Why not?”

”It’s only a matter of time until you realise that I’m too much of an asshole for you to want to be with me. You’ll regret changing for me and then you’ll leave and….”

”Shhh.” Will cuts him off and pulls him closer. “You are an asshole, but you’re _my_ asshole. For someone supposedly smart you’re kind of an idiot.” Frederick tries to pull away but Will holds him tightly against his body. “I’m not going anywhere okay? We’ll figure this out.”

”I don’t understand,” whispers Frederick and he really doesn’t. This is some dream, some wonderful fantasy where this sweet attractive person has come along and told Frederick all the things he wants to hear. He’s too used to everything going wrong, of being the _reason_ everything goes wrong.

”It’s pretty simple actually,” says Will. “I’ve fallen in love with you and if you can get over one night with Hannibal then I can get over whatever it is you think I need to get over.” Will turns and tucks Frederick’s head against his chest and kisses his hair. “It’s pretty clear to me that you never let yourself grieve, never really let yourself recover after what happened to you. It’s okay to feel sad Frederick, just please don’t feel sad about something that hasn’t happened. I’m not leaving you.”

It’s everything Frederick wants to hear, it’s everything he wants to be true. He holds Will tight and breathes and doesn’t want this to end. “You’ve got to do me one favour Frederick,” says Will. Frederick nods against his chest. “You’ve got to try for me, work with me here okay?”

”I will,” says Frederick and damn, he means it. He sits up and looks into Will’s eyes as he speaks. “I promise.”

*********

He wants to have sex, to _make love_ with Will, to show him that he’s wrong, that he can look at Will that way again, that he never stopped. Instead they just cuddle. It’s nice though, perfect and Frederick makes a concerted effort to tell the little nagging voice to go away when it pops into his head with worries of Will leaving him.

They don’t talk about things they probably _should_ talk about. Frederick has to remind himself not to ask certain questions or blurt out certain opinions, not yet anyway.

They lie on Frederick’s bed and Frederick presses his ear to Will’s chest and listens to his heartbeat. He feels calmer now and Will strokes gentle fingers through his hair. Frederick finds it soothing and he closes his eyes but doesn’t sleep.

Will speaks softly, tells Frederick about the trick to making the perfect fishing lure and how he picked each of his dogs’ names. Frederick can hear the rumble in his chest when he speaks, can feel Will’s voice in his head.

”When did you fall for me?” asks Will and the question makes Frederick smile, a sudden shift from Will’s tales of dogs and fishing.

”It would be cheesy to say it was love at first sight,” says Frederick and Will pulls him a little tighter.

”It would also be a lie.” Will chuckles and the movement in his chest rocks Frederick’s head up and down. “I remember how you reacted when you realised I was a man.”

”I don’t know, it wasn’t all at once, it just...happened, over time. I guess I fell in love bit by bit and then I only noticed later.”

”You have to be one of the least self aware people I’ve ever met,” says Will but his tone doesn’t make it sound like an insult, just an observation. Frederick tries to shrug but he’s lying in the wrong position for such a gesture.

”If you’re so self aware, when was it for you?”

Will is quiet for a long time. “Well it sounds kind of crazy but I fell in love with you a little bit when I read your message, the one you wrote to the agency about what you were looking for in a date.” Frederick cringes at the thought of what he probably wrote. “Then I fell in love with you a little more when I got to see you...when you showed the real you to me. Then it was too late.” He squeezes Frederick against his side.

”I guess I should be grateful that I used to be a terrible drunk...I mean I did have a lot that night, to the point of not really remembering much of it.” Will chuckles a little.

”I’m not a good person, I can tell, even if I tell people I don’t.” Frederick bites his lip and feels how Will holds his breath under his ear. “I can be rude and condescending and full of myself. I’m insecure and I let it colour the way I act around others. I can be petty and mean.” Frederick sighs. “And even though I’m pretty terrible, I have you and you make me want to try harder.”

”Maybe you’re more self aware than I give you credit for,” says Will and Frederick smiles against the fabric over Will’s chest. “And don’t change too much, I _like_ your pretentious ass.” Will’s hand squeezes Frederick’s ass then and the sudden grab makes Frederick jump. He laughs and Will laughs and the tension is gone.

”I promise,” Frederick says, propping himself up so he can look at Will.

”Hey, you want to read it?” asks Will.

”What?”

”The message,” says Will, rolling his eyes. “The one that made me fall for you.”

Frederick hesitates and Will smiles at him, squeezing his shoulder. Frederick puts his head back against Will’s chest and listens to his heart and smiles. “No,” he says quietly. “I don’t want to think about the past, I want to think about the future.”

”The future?” asks Will.

”With you,” says Frederick softly and for the first time, it feels like something real and tangible, something that actually might exist. He hugs Will’s body tightly.

”That...that sounds really nice actually,” says Will.

”Of course,” says Frederick, closing his eyes. “Who wouldn’t want a future with me?” Will doesn’t laugh at that, just hugs him back tightly.


End file.
